Toward Utopia
by invisiblewing
Summary: The Cornerian military has received a distress signal from the Sargasso Station. Fearing another off-world threat, the Star Fox team is sent to investigate in an effort to prevent another disaster. Set six months after the Anglar Blitz.
1. Prologue

**Author's note: **_**Star Fox**_** belongs to Nintendo.**

**This story is rated T for violence and some profanity.**

**Comments, suggestions and reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"NOVA BOMB ON ANGLAR CRAFT! WESTERN EDGE OF CITY! ATTACK DIRECTION EAST! BOMB IS HOT! REPEAT, BOMB IS HOT!"

"Copy that. All nearby pilots engage Anglar delta formation at western edge of Corneria City!"

Within seconds, four Cornerian aircraft were firing their lasers at the delta formation of Anglars headed toward Corneria City. This was definitely a suicide strike, and a very conspicuous one at that. Eight Anglar aircraft were in a tight delta formation. One in front, six forming the wings of the "V" and the eighth craft was directly behind the front. It was protected, at least for a little while. And it was the aircraft that held the nova bomb, ready to detonate.

As the first volley of lasers hit true on a flanking Anglar aircraft, the four pilots on the rear of the formation immediately broke off and turned their attention toward the advancing Cornerian pilots, whose numbers had grown to thirteen.

"I've got an angle! Approaching from below, eighteen degrees south of bomb's current location!"

"Take it out now!"

The Cornerian pilot squeezed the trigger, unleashing a quick volley of lasers that marched across the sky. Somewhere in the middle of the salvo, one of them hit true on the protected Anglar craft. Seconds later, smoke began billowing out of the Anglar craft's underside. It broke away from the formation in a shallow dive toward the city.

"BOMB STILL ARMED! ANGLAR HAS PULLED INTO A KAMIKAZE STRIKE!"

The pilot who crippled the Anglar craft nosed his plane upward, seemingly with a death wish. At the last second, he ripped the yoke to his left, pulling the craft into a barrel roll. One of his wing tips gutted the Anglar's engine and collided with its left wing. The tip of the Cornerian pilot's wing was sheared off, but it was enough of an impact to send the Anglar reeling to its death in an inescapable dive.

"BREAK FORMATION! NOVA BOMB EXPLOSION IN TEN SECONDS!"

The Cornerian pilot shoved his yoke down in an effort to gain enough speed to get away from the impending explosion. He pulled back with the yoke and realized with a startled gasp that his aircraft was rolling hard right. He guided the craft with the roll slightly, trying to level out the flight just as the doomed Anglar met the ground with the bomb.

A blindingly bright white flash covered the area, followed by a massive explosion and a visible shock front. The blast quickly caught up to the fleeing pilots, disintegrating their aircraft in milliseconds. The one fleeing Cornerian pilot felt his craft lurch as the blast front caught up with him, his head colliding with the seat behind him. He grunted in shock from the force of the blow. Several alarms on his holographic display began flashing red, indicating catastrophic damage. He noticed the engines were blown open, but somehow, the fuselage of his craft had survived the explosion, if only barely.

There was no way to land the aircraft, so the pilot quickly yanked on two levers on either side of his seat. The cockpit glass flew open, and the seat ejected from the aircraft, where it quickly spiraled into the open land below, ending its flight in an explosion that paled in comparison to the nova bomb.

The pilot was met with a wave of searing heat. His parachute opened, and he turned toward the billowing mushroom cloud that was once an Anglar craft. There were no aircraft in the immediate area, Anglar or Cornerian. The explosion was close enough to the city that most of the western district was leveled or gutted.

There was no warning for the bomb. But that's exactly what the Anglars wanted. Zero warning, total destruction. Somehow the pilot had staved off a small fraction of what the bomb could have done to Corneria City, but was it worth it? It didn't look like there were any survivors other than him.

_I killed my friends_, he thought. _I'm a coward, and I'm the reason they're dead._

Unable to comprehend what he had just done, he passed out just as his feet hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 1

The holoprojector Fox kept in his home began whirring and beeped to life. Fox quickly stirred and sat up in his bed clothes after maybe three hours of sleep. Dawn was at least four hours away. He didn't have time to fix himself up, but he was used to it anyway. This happened several times in the Cornerian military as a training exercise, and besides, he wasn't going to turn down any kind of offer for cash just so that he could look presentable.

"Mm. Answer," Fox mumbled at the holoprojector. Within two seconds, Peppy Hare's face appeared a foot or so above the holoprojector, looking directly at Fox using the facial recognition camera mounted on the projector.

"Good morning!" Peppy said sarcastically.

"This had better be good," Fox grumbled back. He yawned.

"It is. I've cleared a request for a shuttle launch today."

Fox's eyes suddenly focused. It sounded like a mission. Which sounded like money. "Keep going."

"The Sargasso Space Station is sending out a distress signal."

Fox's expression went quickly from interested to disgust. "And why am I supposed to help keep that tin can afloat? You know that's Wolf's area."

"Yes, I know. He's the one who sent the distress beacon."

"Great. Sounds like a trap to me."

"Well, we need you to investigate anyway. The station isn't in view of any of our telescopes. Nobody is sure why, and we can't get anyone besides you, Falco and Slippy to mobilize fast enough."

"Wait, back up," Fox said. "We can't see the station? At all? But we can receive radio transmissions. Something doesn't add up."

Peppy sighed, thinking about what he was about to say. "Well, we _can_ get transmissions from there, but it seems to be coming from about six different locations in the Lylat System. We're not sure what to make of it. Everything is coming in garbled, so the Cornerian defense system can only make out certain parts of the signal."

"But there's only one Sargasso," Fox pointed out.

"Yep, that's why something is suspicious."

"What did the signal tell you?"

"Actually, we didn't receive those radio transmissions. The outpost on Katina was the first to receive them. They contacted us about it. Aquas was next. Both of them reported strong bursts at a frequency reserved for emergencies. They're saying the signal is a long string of numbers that nobody can translate for now," Peppy said.

"But they've got telescopes, right? They can see the station. They can figure out what's going on."

"Yes, they can, but they don't have enough of a presence at either station to mobilize a task force. And even if they did, they'd probably balk at going to Sargasso anyway. Which brings me back to you."

Fox grumbled with a sigh. "All right. We'll investigate. I'll leave it up to you to get in contact with Slippy and Falco."

"Will do. The shuttle departs in three hours. Peppy out."

The holoprojector gave the same shrill beep as Fox's bedroom went dark again. Fox toyed with the idea of getting a few more hours of sleep, but then decided against it. Even though it was unfortunate timing, he knew he had to go through a ridiculous checklist before the Cornerian military would let him onto the shuttle. Three hours to board was a little too uncertain for him. Fox hadn't failed on a mission once in his career, and this wasn't going to be the first all because of a missed flight.

Fox stood and stretched with a yawn. And went through his morning routine. As he got himself ready, he became more excited. He knew he'd be where he belonged soon. He was looking forward to the feeling of an adrenaline spike during an intense dogfight. He was looking forward to helping stamp out yet another threat to the Lylat System. But most importantly, he was looking forward to a chunk of change, most of which would go straight toward the loan his father took out all those years ago. But everything started here, in his home. He began by packing a small bag with a clean jumpsuit and a few bathroom essentials.

He sighed as he thought about how easy it would have been to take a quick jaunt over to Sargasso if he were patrolling the Lylat System in space. But that was before Peppy scuttled the Great Fox to help end the Aparoid threat. When the Great Fox actually had protective shielding.

The Great Fox, Mark II, was about ten figurative steps below the original. And to make matters worse, Space Dynamics still had the loan on it active. They were kind enough to modify the former freighter _pro bono_. Several improvements were made, but the Star Fox team had to make decisions at several junctures. One of them was whether to include a warp drive or protective shielding. The decision was simple in the long-term: warp drive. You get to your destination faster. But the added weight from completely protective shielding would have caused the new Great Fox to disintegrate once it reached a certain speed. The inertia of the ship was way too much to handle during massive accelerations. Luckily, though, at least some kind of radiation shielding was installed to help longevity in space.

The Star Fox team had to make so many sacrifices that Slippy jokingly referred to their flagship as the Great Fox*, with an asterisk. To remind everyone of what this new Great Fox was not.

Fox grabbed his keys, radio collar, ID card and holoprojector. He knew the Great Fox had one, but if it were somehow damaged, then what? Redundancy was paramount in this case.

Near the front door, Fox pushed a button on a wall console and said, "Taxi." And waited. Just like any other home in Corneria City, it was built with one of these communicators. Several services were linked to it, including transportation.

After a moment, a reply came back. "Taxi service confirmed for 83 Greywall Drive. We'll be there in approximately fifteen minutes."

Fox didn't say anything back. He was still half-asleep. He ambled back into his bedroom and straightened his bed, as well as a few personal belongings that were too valuable for him to lose. Such as a small framed picture of him with his father, James.

He looked around the bedroom and saw there was nothing else of interest to him at the moment. He slowly made his way back into the main living area of his house and sat down on the sofa. And waited.

Fox was nearly back to sleep when a sharp knock echoed through the house. It was coming from his front door. He jerked awake, stood and shuffled toward the door. Opened it to find the taxi driver standing on the other side of the door, dressed in a crisp black suit. The driver was a young, dark-furred anthropomorphic horse who was roughly the same height as Fox. In the low light, Fox had a difficult time figuring out the driver's fur color, but he guessed dark brown or maybe black.

Upon seeing Fox in his white flight jacket and boots, red scarf and green jumpsuit, the driver's eyes went wide.

"M-Mister…McCloud…?" he stammered. And continued standing there in shock.

Fox tried to stifle a small laugh. He'd been caught with this stare several times before. "Fox," he corrected the driver. He knew the driver was going to be in shock for a while, so Fox preempted waiting and said, "I need to go to the shuttle docking port."

"Oh. Yes. Uh, this way, please," the driver said. He strode clumsily toward the waiting taxi, which was an unlabeled black SUV. The vehicle was hovering gently in the driveway. Inside was a meter for the going rate, which served as the only indicator of this vehicle being a taxi. The transportation department for Corneria City quickly found out that a run-of-the-mill SUV was much less likely to be attacked than any other vehicle. Which explained why most of the taxis were this type of vehicle.

Fox groaned on the inside, reminded for the umpteenth time that it was very easy to impersonate a taxi driver. However, Cornerian law dictated several regulations that had to be followed to the letter. You could check for a small sticker on the lower passenger side of the windshield. The driver was required to announce his or her start and end points, as well as the desired route on a two-way communications channel. Not only that, the vehicle couldn't start without approval. Any unannounced deviation from the planned route would deactivate the taxi. Several other failsafes were in place to protect taxi drivers and their passengers.

The driver opened a back door for Fox and stood dutifully, waiting for him to enter. Fox climbed in and tossed his bag onto the empty seat next to him. The driver closed the door behind him.

The natural-toned LEDs illuminated the area enough for Fox to see the silhouetted driver through the tinted windows of the taxi. He watched as the driver nonchalantly scratched an itch under his chin.

The driver disappeared from Fox's view for a brief second and then reappeared, putting something into his pocket. He walked around the taxi and climbed into the driver's seat, just as an SUV passed Fox's driveway.

"Docking port?" the driver asked.

"Yes," Fox replied.

"Taxi W-41. 83 Greywall Drive to Shuttle Docking Port located in West Corneria City. Taking direct route using Bypass 8," the driver announced using a radio collar.

The driver waited for a minute or so. A reply from the receiver mounted near the gear shift filled the cab. "Shuttle Docking Port confirmed. You may proceed." At that point, the instrument panel lit in a soft green color, signaling the driver he had full control of the vehicle.

The driver pulled the SUV into gear and pressed a button on the meter, causing it to begin timing the trip. He backed out of the driveway and began traveling on Greywall Drive. Fox knew the docking port was about an hour's drive away from his home, so he tried to get at least some rest. But before he could truly drift off, he noticed the driver looking at him through the rear-view mirror every five seconds or so. It wasn't the wow-I-can't-believe-it's-Fox-McCloud look. The driver had more of an anxious expression on his face.

After a few glances, Fox finally picked up on it and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh," the driver said. "N-nothing. It's just…I never thought I'd…well, get the chance to meet you."

"Um. Okay," Fox said, thoroughly confused by what this driver was saying compared to how he was behaving. "Are you gonna watch the road?" he asked quickly. A guardrail on the right side of the taxi was getting too close for Fox's comfort. An amber warning light appeared on the instrument panel, and the dashboard chimed at the driver.

The driver gasped and yanked the wheel back to the left, the taxi lurching back into the correct lane. "S-sorry," he said quietly after a few seconds.

"Keep your eyes on the road, kid," Fox said flatly.

"Y-yessir."

Fox had been on the route between home and the docking port several times. He knew there were four major intersections with stoplights, followed by several kilometers of a bypass. Eventually, they'd take the exit marked "Shuttle" and turn right. That road led directly to the port, located about ten kilometers off the bypass. Right now, the taxi was stopped at the second intersection, waiting for the signal to turn green. It did, and the driver continued toward the port.

It didn't take long to reach the third intersection, and the signal turned yellow at _just_ the right time. The signals stayed yellow for three seconds, and considering the distance between the taxi and the intersection, the driver had a chance to get through the intersection before the signal turned red. He thought about risking it, but remembered the taxi services in Corneria City absolutely hated any kind of dangerous driving, especially when so many dignitaries were living here.

"Crud," the driver mumbled under his breath. He stepped on the brake pedal, slowing the taxi down with a small lurch. Fox shrugged it off. The stoplights in the city sometimes seemed to have a little bit of evil in them.

As the taxi slowed, a red aura settled in the cab, which meant the other street had right-of-way.

"Yes, now," the driver said quietly.

"What?" Fox asked.

But before he could register what was going on, the driver let off the brake, opened the door and dove out.

"Shit!" Fox saw it coming just barely in time and braced his right shoulder for an impact. He covered the back of his neck with his hands and leaned forward, trying to get away from the imminent shards of glass.

The other vehicle, also an SUV, slammed into the taxi with a deafening crunch. Fox was thrown to his right as the seat belt held tight against his chest. Air bags on Fox's right side quickly inflated, sparing him from dislocating his shoulder, but he was knocked senseless by the whiplash. Fox's went briefly deaf as he felt at least one muscle in his neck strain against the collision. His right leg was shoved toward his left as the front end of the oncoming vehicle crumpled against the roll cage of the taxi, creating a broad indentation in the taxi's frame. The window inches above Fox's back shattered and rained glass all over him and the floorboard beneath his feet. The taxi rolled onto its left side, where the driver's side windows spider-webbed before shattering as well.

Fox grunted in pain, his neck begging for mercy as he tried to keep himself generally in his seat. But it was almost impossible to fight gravity like this when he was already disoriented and in pain. He couldn't think and react quickly enough to avoid several glass fragments embedding themselves in his left side.

The taxi groaned to a halt as it upended itself completely, coming to rest on its roof with a loud crunching noise. Fox's vision was blurring on the edge of darkness, his hearing almost nonexistent, and he had no idea what was up or down. He felt an occasional drip from his nose and noticed it had a coppery odor. He was bleeding, but how much blood he was losing was anyone's guess. As the darkness closed around him, Fox felt his arms drop, the backs of his hands crashing into the roof below him, and everything went black.

Outside of the wreckage, the taxi driver spotted a black car heading his way. It pulled to a stop about a hundred feet away from the crash, and the back passenger door opened. The driver walked to the car and got in. He pulled the door shut as the car turned around and drove away like nothing was wrong.


	3. Chapter 2

Flashing red lights lit the interior of the SUV only five minutes after the collision happened. The emergency vehicle silently stopped near the upturned taxi, and the paramedics were discussing rescue options at a breakneck pace as they exited the ambulance.

One of the paramedics, a female tiger, approached the upturned SUV and knelt down, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone who might be inside. She gasped audibly as she saw an unconscious Fox McCloud held upside-down by the seat belt across his legs. A small pool of blood, originating from either his nose or mouth, had collected on the roof of the vehicle. She knew they had very little time left because Fox was still bleeding. He'd die from blood loss if they left him upside-down for too long.

The tiger quickly jumped back to her feet and grabbed a small foam mat to spread below Fox. A stretcher wasn't going to fit into the window, and any hydraulic rescue tools were _en route_. In other words, not here.

"Get a stretcher ready!" she shouted to the rest of her team. Her other two teammates quickly brought a stretcher out and placed it near her feet.

The tiger paramedic crawled onto the mat generally underneath Fox. She tucked his head gently and unlatched the seat belt, making sure to keep his weight off his neck or head. Fox collapsed toward his left shoulder, his right shin getting caught between the passenger seat and the roll cage of the taxi.

The paramedic reached toward his leg and freed it from its prison. Fox flopped limply toward the driver side of the taxi like a rag doll as the paramedic backed out of the window and began dragging the foam mat out of the SUV.

"Stretcher ready?" she asked quickly.

"All yours," one of the other paramedics said, waiting for his turn to begin. He was a lanky, grey-haired German Shepherd. As the tiger dragged the mat out of the taxi, he noticed who she had on the foam mat. "Oh, that's Fox McCloud, isn't it?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she replied. "He's unconscious, so someone get me a pulse, BP and check for any signs of concussion, stat. And watch out for the shrapnel. He has several glass shards in his left side."

"Pulse at neck present but a little weak. Approximately 70 bpm," the dog said.

While the dog was checking for a pulse, the tiger produced a small flashlight and opened Fox's left eye. She quickly noticed it wasn't dilated, which told her Fox likely had a concussion. His eye never responded to the flashlight.

"Blood pressure slowly dropping. Currently 65 over 110," the third paramedic, a middle-aged lemur, said as the automated tourniquet produced its readout.

"Let's get a saline drip started. Left pupil shows no response to light, so we'll begin treating for a concussion as well. Once we get situated in the ambulance you two start working at getting the glass out of him." The other two paramedics nodded in assent.

The dog grabbed the mat at Fox's feet, while the tiger was near his head. "Lifting," the dog said. "One. Two. Three." They quickly moved the mat onto the stretcher and secured Fox using durable straps over his chest and legs. The lemur had placed a thick, soft cloth between Fox's left side and the straps to keep the glass fragments from digging into his side. The tiger and dog hefted Fox and the stretcher into the waiting ambulance. Working in unison, the paramedics secured the stretcher to the floor of the vehicle and signaled for the driver to begin heading toward their hospital. They closed the doors to the back of the ambulance, and within seconds, they were headed away from the collision scene.

* * *

Peppy didn't understand. Fox _always_ jumped at the opportunity to save the day. And here he was, at the shuttle terminal with Falco and Slippy. Waiting. For Fox to arrive. He was pacing back and forth in front of the other two Arwing pilots.

"If you keep that up, you'll wear a groove in the floor," Falco pointed out. Peppy simply looked at him and continued pacing nervously.

"I j-just hope Fox shows up soon. W-we've got an hour before launch," Slippy said.

Without warning, Falco's radio collar beeped, startling him. Considering Fox's absence and the way the collar sprang to life, Peppy knew there was nothing good that could come out of this. That sound from their radio collars was exclusively reserved for emergencies. Falco pressed a button on the collar, which opened a two-way channel between him and whoever was talking to him.

"Falco Lombardi." He paused. "Yes, Fox is supposed to be here at the shuttle." He paused again, his eyes clouding over grimly. "What?" He had a tone of voice that said he understood what was being said, but didn't believe it. "Is…is he gonna be okay?" Another pause. "Oh…Well, um, I'll let them know."

"What happened?" Slippy and Peppy asked in unison.

"A doctor just got a hold of Fox's radio collar. He says Fox has a concussion and is at the West Hill Hospital."

Upon hearing the word "concussion," Peppy almost fainted. "Concussion from what?" he asked.

"The paramedic says a collision." Falco paused and continued. "I'd just as soon get on the shuttle anyway, but I have no idea what we're facing."

"What do you think, Slippy?" Peppy asked after a profound silence.

"About what?" Slippy replied.

"Do you still want to continue with this assignment?"

"Um," he started. "W-we'd have two Arwing pilots and that's all. I'm not sure if we c-could survive a dogfight because we're outnumbered."

Falco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Against his supposedly better judgment, he actually sided with keeping his feet on the ground, for once. There was no telling what could happen in the Sargasso Zone, and having one pilot who didn't possess top-notch skills gave almost no help. For all he knew, the distress signal could have been a ruse.

There was a long silence as two pairs of eyes fell upon Falco. "Let's scrub the launch," Falco mumbled to Peppy.

Peppy, who figured this might happen, nodded somberly and said, "Okay. You're free to go."

* * *

Hearing was the first sense that returned to Fox. The soft beeping of a heart monitor told the world he was alive. He opened his eyes, and his vision was flooded with harsh, cold light. He groaned in pained surprise, as the light set off an excruciating headache.

"Sorry. Too bright. Hopefully, this will be better," the triage doctor said to him.

After a few minutes, Fox's headache was mostly gone, so he decided to take another chance at opening his eyes. He did, but this time, there was no pain. Fox guessed he had a concussion.

"Mr. McCloud, it's an honor to meet you," the doctor said.

"Mm. Who're you?" Fox asked, his speech slurring. He wasn't quite sure where he was, but it smelled and sounded like a hospital.

"Doctor Theo Kaspar. Falco and Slippy are on their way over here. I just finished talking with them."

The world was beginning to return for Fox. "They're not at the shuttle?" he asked.

"I think they _were_, at least until I got a hold of them."

"How?"

"Your radio collar," the doctor said matter-of-factly. "Here, you can have it back. Just don't put it around your neck for now."

Fox tried to sit up in his bed, but his head began pounding again.

"You can use the bed to prop yourself up. The control is near your left hand. I'll put the radio collar here." Dr. Kaspar placed the collar on the counter about ten feet away from Fox. He reached up toward the heart rate monitor and muted it.

Fox's eyes found the bed controller, and he pushed a button with an up arrow on it. The bed hummed as it brought Fox's upper half to a half-sitting, half-lying position. He noticed Dr. Kaspar was a brown bear of average height. Fox also noticed several shaved areas on his own left side covered by bandages.

"What are these?" Fox asked, pointing at the bandages.

"Bandages," the doctor said without missing a beat. Fox opened his mouth to retort, but the doctor held up a hand and continued. "You had several puncture wounds from glass shrapnel. Only two of them required stitches. The rest of them will heal on their own."

Fox tried to remember what happened. How he had gotten glass embedded in his left side. But the last thing he could recall was fastening his seat belt inside the taxi. How he went from his home to this hospital was a mystery for now. As well as the pounding and ringing inside his head.

"Can I run some tests on you?" Dr. Kaspar asked.

Fox sighed. "Sure. I've got nothing else to do, now that my head isn't on straight anymore," he grumbled sarcastically.

Dr. Kaspar cracked a small grin as he took Fox's right wrist and searched for a pulse. He had a surprisingly gentle touch. Satisfied, he produced a pocket flashlight and said, "Look at that wall, please." He pointed across the room. Fox did as he was told, and the doctor moved the flashlight beam over Fox's right eye first, followed by his left. He put the flashlight back into his pocket and held two fingers in front of Fox's face. "How many fingers do you see?"

Even though his vision was blurry, Fox clearly distinguished two fingers. "Two," he said after a short pause.

The doctor nodded and pulled a small reading chart and said, "Hold this, and tell me if you can read it."

Fox squinted, but only the top two rows were focused enough to distinguish the letters and numbers. "Only the top two rows," Fox said dutifully.

The doctor took the card out of Fox's hand and said, "Well, Mr. McCloud, you sustained a concussion. I've got a few syringes ready that will help ease the symptoms."

"All the medical advances we've had and you don't have a magic bullet for concussions?" Fox asked sarcastically.

The doctor looked at him and shook his head slightly. "No, although one of the drugs will help speed your recovery. That's the best we can offer. You should be generally healed within two or three days, but total recovery will take up to about a week." And without asking for Fox's consent, Dr. Kaspar lifted Fox's right arm slightly and worked the first syringe in. Although Fox was almost deathly afraid of needles, he barely felt his skin being pierced. Similarly, there was almost no feeling for the other two injections. "One of the other drugs is an antiemetic, and the last one is a sedative. It's pretty weak, so you'll only be asleep for about two hours."

"So when are you gonna do the injections?" Fox asked, looking at the wall. He was afraid if he caught sight of the needle entering his arm, he'd pass out.

"They're all done," the doctor said with a warm smile. He placed the used syringes into a biohazard container and closed the lid. He then grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Fox's bed. "Have you met my son? Ben?" he asked.

"Ben…Kaspar?" Fox clarified. The doctor nodded. After a moment, Fox shook his head slightly and said, "I…don't think so. Why?"

"He really looks up to you. It's been his dream to be a part of Star Fox ever since he was about fourteen. He's been training in the Cornerian military as a fighter pilot."

Fox occasionally got some variation of this line. Someone dreamed of flying an Arwing in space. And like most Cornerians who had this dream, they never acted on it. But if Dr. Kaspar was right, then his son was in the exceedingly small minority of individuals who actually pursued their dream.

Fox thought carefully about what he was going to say. He usually had some kind of distant reply to anyone who said they wanted to be a part of Star Fox. He knew they didn't want to commit the time or effort and learn how to fly. Or learn how to fight. Most of the time, those who told him about their dreams of being a Star Fox member were kids, so it was easy to simply forget about them later.

"I'll ask Peppy to pull his record," Fox said after a brief silence.

"That'd be great," the doctor replied. "And if nothing else, he'd be thrilled just to meet you."

"As soon as I can move around again."

Dr. Kaspar stood and moved his chair back to the counter. "Rest for now. You should be able to walk out of here by this afternoon at the latest."

"Okay. Thanks, Doctor."

Dr. Kaspar nodded in approval and walked out, the door shutting behind him.

Fox began to feel drowsy, just like the doctor said. He quickly fell asleep as the world around him was just barely waking up.


	4. Chapter 3

"How ya feelin', Mr. McCloud?" Dr. Kaspar asked.

Fox opened his eyes, feeling generally at peace with the world, even though in the back of his mind, he still needed to figure out what was causing the Sargasso distress beacon.

"Disappointed," he mused.

"About what?"

"I was supposed to be headed to the Sargasso Station today. Instead, I wound up in a hospital with a concussion."

"Well, think about it this way. If you sustained a concussion in space, there wouldn't be anyone to help."

A debilitating injury was something that Fox always worried about during a mission. But he learned throughout his career that you have to learn how to fight through it. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"About three hours. You look a lot more coherent now, so I can discharge you if all your diagnostic tests pass."

"That sounds great," Fox said.

The doctor went through the same diagnostic tests: checking for pupil dilation, checking for double vision and a quick test of Fox's visual acuity. This time, Fox could read all of the characters on the vision card. He passed those tests with flying colors.

"So far, it looks good," Dr. Kaspar said. "Can you stand?"

Fox moved slowly, afraid his head might start pounding again. But getting to an upright position was no problem at all.

"Close your eyes and touch your nose with your right index finger."

Fox did as he was told. The doctor must have been satisfied because he continued, "Keeping your eyes closed, hold your arms straight in front of you." Without delay, Fox's arms moved up. He didn't feel any problems. "Open your eyes and stand on your right foot." Fox's left foot came off the ground. He held his balance without any trouble.

Dr. Kaspar nodded. He wrote something on his datapad with a stylus and tapped the screen a few times. "You're good to go," he told Fox. "If you can, get at least two days of rest because you're still concussed."

"What?" Fox said. "I thought you said I was fine."

"I did. But concussions remain for a period of time after the symptoms are gone. For at least a few days, it'll be very easy for you to sustain another one. You'll probably heal fully in about a week or so."

Just then, the door opened to reveal a snow leopard in scrubs. Probably a triage nurse. "Discharge?" she asked as she took the datapad from Dr. Kaspar.

"Yes, for Mr. McCloud. Make sure he gets a meal ticket." The doctor turned to Fox and said, "You'll need to change back into your gear before you leave. We need the gown back."

"Got it." Fox noticed his flight gear was neatly folded next to his radio collar.

"I'll wait just outside the door," the nurse said. Fox nodded as the two of them left. He replaced his gown with his jumpsuit, flight jacket and boots and stowed the radio collar in his right jacket pocket. Even though this getup advertised him to the rest of the world, he felt almost invincible when he was wearing it. Almost.

Fox left the gown on the bed and opened the door. The triage nurse led him through the maze of corridors to the check out window.

"Hi, Mr. McCloud," the nurse on duty said brightly.

"Here's the datapad from Dr. Kaspar. He also said to give him a meal ticket," the nurse accompanying Fox said.

The nurse behind the window looked through the datapad and said, "Excellent. Here ya go." She handed him a scrap of paper about the size of an index card. The meal ticket. "The café is behind you and to the right."

"Okay. Thanks," Fox said.

"Stay safe!" she called after him.

_Yeah, right_, Fox thought. His line of work was anything but safe. He turned right and entered the café. And as luck would have it, Falco, Slippy and Peppy were sitting at a table, eating what looked to be yogurt. Peppy waved at Fox. Fox acknowledged him, but before sitting down with them, he selected what he wanted to eat using a datapad at the counter. After he was finished, the screen prompted him for his name, so he typed "McCloud." Afterward, the screen instructed him to sit down, so he joined his teammates.

"At least the yogurt is good, because I missed a vacation in Sargasso today," Falco said sarcastically, eyeing Fox with a sideways glance.

"Yeah, well, life happens occasionally," Fox replied.

"So, um, what happened?" Slippy asked.

Fox sighed, but he was at least somewhat grateful all three of them were here. He only had to say it once. "All I know is that I was in a taxi heading toward the shuttle docking port, and then I woke up with a concussion and shrapnel damage."

"What kind of shrapnel?" Falco asked.

"Glass fragments. The window on my left must've blown during the crash."

"That musta hurt," Slippy said quietly.

Fox looked at him and shrugged. "I don't remember anything from it." Silence fell over the group for a brief moment.

"Hey, Fox, your doctor came and talked to me about his son," Peppy said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, yeah," Fox said. "He said his son was a fighter pilot for the Cornerian military."

"Well, I was able to pull his record here, and I'd like for you to start training him. Maybe not as a team member, but as more of a contractor."

Fox groaned on the inside. He half-expected Ben to be this rank-and-file pilot who he could brush off after saying hello. But Peppy immediately jumped to training him. That was something he didn't have the patience for. He had tried once with the Cornerian military after the Aparoid threat had ended, hoping to earn at least some income as a flight instructor. But his impatient, sink-or-swim attitude clashed with almost everyone there.

"Yeah, I know you struggle with training," Peppy said. "But this kid is almost as good as you were in the Academy."

Fox rolled his eyes, having heard that line several times from ranking officers in the Academy. But this was the first time Peppy himself had said this to him. And besides, Peppy told Fox to ignore what the officers were saying when they talked up their pilots.

"Really, Fox. Get him a little time in an Arwing. I want him to join you for the Sargasso assignment that was supposed to happen today."

Fox gave a fake laugh. "Are you serious? I can't just _let_ someone tag along on a mission like this. There's no way I'm going to babysit him the entire time."

"Do you remember what I said about pulling his record?" Peppy asked. Fox simply looked at him. "You know those records are completely objective. He's put in over two hundred simulation hours for an Arwing alone. He fought against the Anglars as point man for his formation during their attack on Corneria City."

Fox sighed, knowing he couldn't get out of this one. "All right," he said. "But if he looks even _slightly_ lost, he's gone."

"Deal," Peppy said quickly. There was no use in bargaining. He just had to trust that Ben would show his flying experience and let Fox make his judgment after that.

At that point, a server walked out with a plate laden with Fox's meal. A cup of assorted in-season fruit, a club sandwich and a glass of water.

"Here you are, Mr. McCloud. Enjoy," the server said, placing the plate and glass in front of Fox. He took the meal ticket off the table and left without another word.

"Hey, I thought hospitals were supposed to have bad food!" Slippy exclaimed.

Fox grinned at him. "Looks like this one's an exception." He began eating. The food tasted as delicious as it looked.

* * *

The four Star Fox members walked out of the hospital and into the short-term parking lot. Slippy and Peppy both drove here, and both of their vehicles were stationed reasonably close. Slippy had deactivated his hover feature, allowing his sedan to charge its batteries through contact with the pavement. Peppy's SUV was still hovering, so he must have had plenty of charge left.

"HEY, UGLY!" a voice rang out across the way.

Slippy and Peppy both fell for it and looked in that direction. Fox noticed Slippy wince slightly when he figured out he'd been had.

"Probably just a street thug who doesn't have anything better to do," Falco mused as he slowly turned his gaze. He was right on that count. Slippy and Peppy were looking at a coyote who obviously spent a stupidly long time making sure he looked tough.

"Hey, look! It's the Star Fucks!" the coyote shouted, rushing forward. He was aiming at Slippy, probably assuming he couldn't fight as well as Fox, Falco or Peppy.

Slippy took a few steps back, taken by surprise by this thug's aggression. And suddenly, an arm wrapped around his neck. Slippy jumped, his blood chilling as he realized this thug had a crony. And they had a plan too. But he noticed there was almost no threat from the thug's arm. He had no idea how to deliver a choke, so it ended up being a clumsy headlock.

"I GOT THE FROG!" the thug shouted from behind. "Not so hot without your plane, ribbit?" He waited for a beat and cackled, obviously thrilled at his own joke.

"Hold him there, lemme kick the shit outta him," the first thug said from in front as he began striding forward.

Slippy rolled his eyes in annoyance, knowing he was about to take complete control of this situation. He slid a little to his left and his right fist immediately shot backwards, toward the coyote's groin. Slippy's fist hit true, causing the coyote's eyes to widen in shock. He grunted and immediately bent over in abject pain, releasing his hold on Slippy to protect himself from further abuse.

Before the coyote could gather himself, Slippy stepped backwards with his right leg, his foot ending between the coyote's. He rammed the thug with his right shoulder and got an added bonus when he connected with the coyote's snout. The coyote wailed in pain, unable to respond to what Slippy was doing. Slippy simply waited for the coyote to get a short distance away, shuffle-stepped and kicked him in the groin for the _coup de __grâce_. Slippy's right foot connected with a dull thud, lifting the coyote off the ground slightly, and as he came back down, he quickly collapsed with an agonized moan, his face nearly torn in two from his grimace.

Fox grinned at what Slippy had done to the coyote. Something the Cornerian military never taught in combat operatives, but it worked all the same anyway. He glanced at the other thug and noticed him standing, rooted to his spot in horror.

Slippy quickly turned back around, ready to confront the other coyote.

The other thug stood ten feet away from Slippy, shocked that someone could fight in such a brutally unfair way.

"NO FAIR!" he finally shouted as his brain finally started to get over the carnage.

Slippy calmly replied, "I don't do 'fair.' If you wanna throw down, there's a hospital that way," he said, jerking his right thumb backwards over his shoulder. "Now get your mangled friend out of here, or I'll let one of these three turn you into a suitable material for paving roads." Fox, Falco and Peppy glared at the thug. Falco took a step forward, forcing him to decide quickly.

Fox thought it was a little humorous that Slippy had so calmly threatened this thug in front of him. His high-pitched voice contrasted sharply with the brutal nature of the abuse he doled out on the coyote.

"All right! All right! Shit! Just…just get outta here!" the other coyote shouted. His voice had taken on a decidedly higher pitch now that he was scared for his life. After seeing what the frog did so easily, he shuddered to think what those other three Star Fox members could do to him. Especially the blue bird, who was glaring lasers at him.

"He said for _you_ to leave," Falco said. "And get this shit out of the way. Unless you wanna remove him from the road with a spatula."

It didn't take long for the coyote to realize that none of them was joking. He began walking in a roundabout path to his friend, avoiding the Star Fox team. He did his best to look "cool" as he gathered his friend and helped him walk away. The injured coyote whimpered in pain the entire time. The two thugs slowly hobbled away from the Star Fox team and away from the hospital.

"You know, that felt really good," Slippy said with a massive grin as the two coyotes got out of earshot.

"That _looked_ really good," Fox exclaimed, turning to face him.

"They remind me of some of the Hot Rodders," Falco said with disinterest.

"How so?" Peppy asked.

"Some of them would pick a fight with anyone. As long as they were important or famous. If they could beat him, it'd be a badge of honor…so to speak. Didn't matter how they won."

"Don't you think it's weird that the other thug is helping the one Slippy destroyed?" Fox asked.

Falco shrugged. He was the one out of the four of them who had the most experience with gangs. "Not really. He knew we weren't playing around, and both of them getting injured at once wouldn't buy them any favors from above. But they're S.O.L. no matter what," he said with a slight grin.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Peppy asked Slippy.

"Why? Is it 'against the rules?'" Slippy taunted.

"Well, no, but we'd never teach anyone those techniques for combat ops."

"I know. I just used what works. And I kinda wanted to send a message to that other thug."

Fox laughed. "You did that, all right. He almost puked watching what you did."

Just then, a security guard, a tall lion, came running toward the Star Fox team. "Mr. McCloud! Sir, please, I need you four to stay here."

"I don't think we have a choice," Peppy said, his shoulders drooping slightly.

The security guard beckoned them toward the hospital building and said, "Follow me, please."

Inside the security office, the guard sat down behind his desk as the Star Fox team pulled up seats of their own. "What's your name?" he asked, pointing at Slippy.

"S-Slippy Toad," he said. Falco rolled his eyes imperceptibly. One of his pet peeves about Slippy was how he stuttered when he was in a pressure situation. Granted, he was getting better at talking normally, but it seemed like his brain short-circuited a little at times like this.

"Okay, Slippy, I just want you to know one thing about what happened out there," the guard said. "Unless that coyote has an unbelievably good lawyer, his case will never hold up in court if he tries to sue."

All four of them breathed a collective sigh of relief. Even defending yourself against an attack nowadays could quickly result in a lawsuit.

"Still, I need you to fill out this report, because everything was recorded on our security cameras. We need to have an affidavit saying that you defended yourself." The guard handed Slippy a datapad and stylus.

"I can do that," Slippy said objectively. And began writing.

"As for you three," the guard continued. "If that coyote decides to sue, you'll have to be witnesses. And unfortunately, you _will_ have to testify. Okay?"

"Yessir."

"All right."

"I understand."

The guard rested his elbows on the table and made a show of massaging his temples with his hands. "In cases like this, I really wish you could just walk away. We've been having trouble with those thugs for about three months, and I can't tell you how much better I feel, now that you've scared them off."

Slippy perked and sarcastically said, "Well, if you need my help again, you know where to find me."

The guard and Peppy chuckled.

"Are they part of a gang?" Fox asked.

"We think so. Law enforcement for the West Hill district has found several different thugs with the same general style of clothing and behavior. But those two in particular have nearly caused several of our patients to die. They like to stall the paramedics and watch the patients they bring in suffer."

"Are they going through an initiation?" Falco asked.

The guard shrugged. "Law enforcement has been having trouble catching anyone from this gang. It seems as our surveillance improves, they figure out a way to beat it every time. We don't know if they have figured out every little hole in our system, if they're bribing the police or what. Maybe this time, your 'victim' will start talking."

Slippy looked up slightly from the datapad and grinned.

The guard's eyes moved toward the door behind the Star Fox team. "Oh. Mr. McCloud, Dr. Kaspar would like to speak with you."

"Am I free to go?" Fox asked. The guard nodded to him. Fox stood and walked away from the guard's desk.

"If you have a few moments, I'd really like for you to meet my son," Dr. Kaspar said to him.

"He's here?"

"Yes. He surprised me with a visit."

Fox remembered what he promised to Dr. Kaspar and said, "I'd like to bring Peppy and Falco with us."

The doctor's eyes brightened. "You have no idea how much this'll mean to Ben. Really."

"Be right back."

Within a minute, Fox, Falco and Peppy were walking down the corridor with Dr. Kaspar. They turned a corner and entered a lobby. At one of the tables, a young-looking bear with dark fur was sitting, seemingly waiting.

"Ben?" Dr. Kaspar said. The young bear looked up. "This is the Star Fox team."

His eyes widened as he stood. Ben strode toward Fox with his right hand outstretched. Fox met his eyes and shook hands with him.

"Fox McCloud. Your dad told me about you."

Ben grinned and replied, "Ben Kaspar." He let go of Fox's hand and introduced himself to Falco and Peppy. For having a dream of simply meeting the Star Fox team, he still had a confident handshake.

After the greetings, Peppy asked, "Can we sit? I'd like to talk with you."

Ben stood rooted to his spot for a brief moment, trying to process what he had heard. He knew it was a long shot to even _meet_ the Star Fox team. But to be invited to a discussion with them? How important did they think he was? He clumsily turned and sat back down in his seat with a lot of effort.

Throughout the conversation, Ben thought he was being attentive. But everything Peppy, Falco and Fox said seemed to wash over his head. It was bizarre, seeing how he had this dream of meeting the Star Fox team, and then it finally happened. But he never planned for what he should do next.

"I pulled your record from the military," Peppy said to Ben, who finally brought his mind back to the present tense. "And I'd like for you to begin training in an Arwing."

Ben looked at Peppy in mild shock for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "Um…Sir?"

"Starting this afternoon, Falco and Fox will be helping you fly an Arwing. Are you willing to do that?"

Ben didn't want to come off as too excited. "Absolutely, sir. I'll be ready," he said with conviction.

Peppy smiled at him. "Good. You've got a day and a half to prove yourself to them. You do that, and you'll be headed to the Sargasso Station the day after tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 4

"No! Use the G-diffusers to your advantage!"

"Yessir." Ben lost count of how many times he had said that to Fox over his intercom. Even from the ground, Fox could see that he didn't trust what the Arwing was doing.

_This is why I can't stand training,_ Fox thought. _They never figure it out fast enough._

It was one thing to go through the simulator. It was another to actually fly the damn thing. The simulator couldn't replicate the feelings brought on by full stops or sudden accelerations. Or barrel rolls. Or loops. Or a myriad of other maneuvers. The Cornerian Air Force would _never_ teach these drills. Mainly because their aircraft couldn't handle them. And even if the aircraft could, pilots would be passing out left and right from the G-forces. Though finicky, the G-diffusers reduced the inertial forces on the pilots to give them more freedom in the air. They had fewer "rules" to worry about.

It was an odd feeling when pulling off some kind of acrobatic maneuver with G-diffusers. You expect to feel yourself being shoved in different directions, but it ends up feeling more like a gentle nudge.

"Okay. Get it right this time, kid," Fox said tersely. "Make a lap around the airfield, and when you cross over the hangar again, I want a full stop for eight seconds."

Ben pulled the yoke, turning the Arwing to his left and making a wide circle. He had waffled on the stop four times so far, and he was afraid this was his last chance. Fox had been impatient from the get-go. Ben had wanted to at least make a favorable impression of himself for Fox, but he wasn't sure if he could do that with Fox's ultra-steep learning curve. Every single maneuver, starting from overbanked turns, all the way to here, involved Fox shouting at Ben.

"Stop…NOW!" Fox shouted, watching from the ground.

The Arwing yanked to a halt. Over his intercom, Fox heard Ben grunt slightly, the feeling of reduced inertia still foreign to him. But he kept the G-diffusers active as the Arwing held its spot in the sky, like it was being suspended by an invisible string.

"Better," Fox said. "Again, though. You're not convincing me yet."

"Yessir," Ben said again, gritting his teeth.

"Hey! Quit with the attitude, kid! You've got a day and a half to show me that you can actually handle an Arwing like you could the simulator. But if you're gonna cop an attitude, I just might as well go home because you're not worth my time."

_And just what are you gonna do instead?_ Ben wondered. But he kept his mouth shut. Peppy had told him Fox was notoriously difficult to work with before the training started. But he told Ben to look at it like a rite of passage. If he could survive what Fox put him through, there was nothing he'd ever be afraid of again.

The Arwing turned in a wide circle again. Once over the hangar, the G-diffusers squealed, their electronic circuits firing in overdrive as the Arwing looked like it had hit an invisible wall. And eight seconds later, it started moving forward again.

"Finally, we can start putting things together," Fox groaned in exasperation. There was no congratulations, no proverbial pat on the back. Ben just had to get used to the way Fox approved of what he was doing: telling him to do something different.

"All right, here's what I want, kid," Fox said. "I want that eight second stop like you just did, followed by an upward U-turn. And all of it has to be done within twenty five seconds."

"Sir, there's no way I can accelerate that quickly…"

"And _what_ have I been saying all this time about the G-diffusers!?" Fox shouted.

"Trust them."

"Yes. Trust them. They'll help you do these maneuvers." Fox heard Ben sigh audibly. "You know what, kid? Just land the damned Arwing. I'm not gonna teach someone who keeps forgetting what I'm saying."

"Just gimme one shot at this, sir," Ben said, pleading for yet another chance.

"Fine. Do it perfectly, or we're done."

Ben was silent as he circled around the hangar. Just like last time, he yanked the Arwing to a halt, stalling it in the air. He counted down the seconds, knowing any gap between stalling and starting the loop was going to be the end of his training.

…_Six…Seven…Eight._

Ben pushed the yoke down slightly, helping the Arwing gain speed for the U-turn. After a short drop, he tugged backward on the yoke, and the Arwing rose into the air. He kept his feet on the pedals, controlling the G-diffusers. He felt himself being pressed into his seat as the Arwing went vertical, the thrust from its engines fighting against the planet's gravity. But the G-diffusers did their job, keeping Ben relatively comfortable and, most importantly, keeping him from passing out with the sudden changes in acceleration. Soon, he looked toward the left wing and noticed it was pointing at the horizon. Ben rolled to his left, bringing the Arwing back to an upright position and leveled its flight. He took his feet off the diffuser pedals.

"So there _is_ a pilot in there," Fox quipped sarcastically. Ben realized Fox was impressed, but he just kept it hidden.

"How long did it take?" he finally asked, daring to break his silence.

"Twenty three seconds," Fox replied. "Bring it down, and we'll call it a day."

"Yessir," Ben said again. He spiraled the Arwing back toward the hangar and announced, "Arwing Four, requesting permission to land."

"A-Four, you may land at port one," the traffic controller said.

About a minute later, the Arwing landed on the tarmac, and its engines began to whine down. The cockpit opened, and Ben Kaspar climbed out, finding his way to the ground.

Fox walked over to him and said, "That was all right for your first time out."

"Thank you, sir," Ben responded. He was exhausted from four hours of manipulating the Arwing. Four hours of listening to Fox berate him.

"Tomorrow, you're gonna do a few dogfighting drills with Falco. If he thinks you are good enough, then the day after, you're joining us on the way to Sargasso. Okay?"

"Yessir, thank you," Ben responded.

* * *

Ben arrived at the Arwing hangars the next morning simultaneously excited and fearful of what was to come. Inside, Slippy was hard at work on an Arwing. It took Ben by surprise when he saw Slippy with his upper half buried in the cockpit, while his legs were hanging free from the side.

"C'mon," Slippy grunted. He was tinkering with something. "There!" Slippy righted himself and climbed out of the Arwing, jumping to the ground. He looked up and found a dark-furred bear of average height. "G'morning!" Slippy said to him.

"'Morning," Ben said quietly. "Ben Kaspar."

"Slippy Toad," he replied. They shook hands. "Falco's gonna be running you through dogfighting drills today."

"That's what Fox told me."

"Yeah. Fox and I will be on the ground watching. You'll get two breaks today for meals and bathroom, but that's it."

"Okay, sounds good, sir," Ben said.

"You don't have to call me 'sir,'" Slippy said to him. Ben smiled slightly.

Out of the four of them, Slippy and Peppy seemed the most likeable. Falco, during their brief meeting at the hospital lobby yesterday didn't seem too excited or depressed. And Fox…yeah.

"Okay, Falco's here," Slippy said, looking over Ben's shoulder. Ben turned and found Falco walking in their direction. "Here's how it's gonna work." Ben turned back to Slippy. "I've rigged your Arwings with simulators for laser fire. You can press the triggers all you want, but instead of standard lasers, you'll shoot a helium-neon beam." Upon seeing Ben's confused face, Slippy added, "They're the red lasers that don't hurt anything. The simulators will react to what gets hit. You get shot in the wing, and the wing folds back in. You get shot in a G-diffuser, it'll stop working. The part will be disabled for two minutes. Okay?"

"I get it," Falco said.

"Yes, s…" Ben stopped himself from completing the word.

"Ben, Fox will be coaching you from the ground," Slippy said.

Ben almost groaned audibly. This was gonna be the closest thing to a real dogfight since the Anglars, and he had to listen to Fox scream at him again throughout the entire time.

"Ready?" Slippy asked.

"Let's do this," Falco said.

Ben didn't say a word. He was steeling himself for the onslaught of Fox's voice through his headset. This was gonna be a long day.

Ben and Falco climbed into their Arwings. And launched into the air.

* * *

"C'mon, kid, use your eyes. It's not like Falco has a cloaking device on his Arwing," Fox said indifferently through the radio collar.

Ben gritted his teeth and overbanked for a left turn. Falco had tagged him several times during this maneuver, so he decided to change it slightly and roll into a downward U-turn. As he leveled out, he spotted another Arwing above him.

"Finally, you can see him!" Fox shouted.

Ben thought Fox was a difficult teacher. He was. But Falco was ruthless. He was thankful they were using simulators instead of real lasers, because it wouldn't have taken Falco more than five seconds to shoot him down. He had no idea someone could pilot an Arwing with so much speed and finesse.

Falco's Arwing rolled right, preparing for a turn.

"Now's your chance! Get'm from below!" Fox shouted.

Ben banked his Arwing, trying to get situated underneath Falco's aircraft. He squeezed the triggers on the yoke, blasting his laser fire at Falco's Arwing. But Falco simply rolled down with the turn, picking up a ridiculous amount of speed. And when he leveled his flight, Ben's right wing folded slightly. He'd been shot yet again. The holographic screen in front of him chirped, showing damage to his right wing. His Arwing began tilting right, preventing him from maneuvering very well.

Falco overbanked to his left and came back down toward Ben's Arwing from slightly above, strafing with laser fire. Ben's screen chirped again, showing Falco had shot both top G-diffusers. And predictably, his ride became extremely rough.

"Dammit," Ben grunted. He gritted his teeth, trying to maneuver his way out of Falco's line of fire. If he could just make it without being hit for two minutes...Yeah, right. With a pilot like Falco, two minutes with half an Arwing was an eternity.

"Forty five seconds before all systems green," Fox announced after a while, breaking Ben's concentration.

Hearing Fox's voice over the comm line startled Ben. He was so focused on avoiding any more laser fire that he had forgotten this was a training exercise. He glanced at the holographic screen, noticing the top G-diffusers and right wing were still flashing yellow. Still damaged, but over the past minute and fifteen seconds, Falco hadn't touched him.

All of a sudden, the engines in Ben's Arwing sputtered, jolting him forward. He grunted in shock as his head lurched forward. His feet instinctively slammed down on the G-diffuser pedals, but then he remembered the two G-diffusers on top were nonfunctional from earlier. Falco had finally finished the job. For the umpteenth time.

"Bring it in, kid," Fox said to Ben with a sigh.

_Shit_, Ben thought. _I didn't know you could fail this bad._

Even with all of his training in the Cornerian military, Ben felt like he was just barely starting as a green recruit. Technically, he was, but it felt so humiliating to have barely caught glimpses of Falco's Arwing the entire time. It almost seemed that he was flying with some malfunctioning part more often than not.

Begrudgingly, Ben piloted his Arwing back to the hangar. He landed, and about a minute later, Falco followed suit. Ben opened the cockpit and unlatched himself from the seat. He slowly got out of his Arwing, got to the ground and sat down dejectedly.

After the last day and a half, he realized the Star Fox team was only for a select few. And he obviously wasn't one of those few.

"On your feet, kid," a voice from above him said. Without warning, someone grabbed underneath his right arm and hoisted him to his feet. It was Falco. "You don't have to be Little Optimist, but don't quit like you just did." Falco let go of Ben and continued walking forward.

Ben sighed. Quietly, just in case someone might hear him. And followed Falco, Fox and Slippy into the hangar.

"How'd it go?" Peppy asked the group.

_Horrible,_ Ben thought. _Just let me crawl underneath a rock and hide there for the rest of the week._

"He did all right," Falco said. It didn't sound like he was trying to be nice. To Ben, his tone of voice sounded way more objective, like it was a candid evaluation.

"So you think he's good enough for tomorrow?" Peppy asked.

This was the moment of truth. Ben's stomach dropped to his feet. He had tried to prepare himself for this eventuality soon after his training started this morning. And now, he was gonna hear confirmation from Fox, Falco or Slippy that he wasn't meant to be here.

"I think so," Fox said.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ben asked almost immediately.

Fox and Falco both scowled at him.

"You're gonna be heading toward the Sargasso Station tomorrow," Fox translated for him.

"Don't kick yourself, kid," Falco said. "You did better than most everyone I've seen flying. Wolf O'Donnell would have trouble with you."

Ben stifled a laugh. "You're being nice."

"Just how easy did you think today was gonna be!?" Falco almost shouted. "Call me a liar, but Fox and I are the best pilots you'll find in the Lylat System. And you just saw why today."

Ben took a deep breath. He still didn't quite believe Falco. He really wanted to say how insignificant he felt over the last two days, but quickly decided against it. There was an open invitation to become part of Star Fox. This was his dream for the last eight years or so, and now it seemed like he didn't want to take it.

But before he could say anything, Peppy said, "Ben, come this way, please."

Ben, grateful someone had rescued him from that awkward position, slowly turned toward Peppy and began walking.

"I want all four of you to stay here tonight. I don't want another intentional attack on someone to happen again," Peppy said to the four of them. And led Ben out of earshot from the rest of the Star Fox team. "Slippy showed me the transcript from today. And it wasn't as bad as you thought."

Ben knew it was pointless to argue himself down like he had been doing, so he simply said, "Thanks."

"Falco really only hit you four times throughout the day."

"I felt like I was flying with half an Arwing most of the time," Ben said.

"Because he took his time to finish the job. It's hard to destroy an Arwing or Wolfen in one pass. And even though you couldn't hear what he was saying, Falco was actually getting a little frustrated because you were evading him."

"Yeah, when the entire Arwing was working."

"No, he said it was difficult to hit you when your Arwing was crippled. On the transcript, Falco said you were resourceful six different times today. You avoid his fire long enough that in a real dogfight, you could probably get help or get to a safer place. Fox, Falco and Wolf are the only three pilots I've seen who could do that."

"You really think I can do this…" Ben said as a half-question.

"Fox and Falco do. They're the ones who matter in this decision." Before Ben could interject any further, Peppy said, "Now get some rest. I'll have cots delivered here. I've also asked for the restaurant at the docking port to cater. They'll send a menu in about an hour."

"Okay," Ben said with a sigh. "Thank you, sir."

"No, thank _you_," Peppy said, pointing at him. And without another word, he left Ben standing there in mild shock.


	6. Chapter 5

It was a small wonder how several generations ago, Cornerian leaders were able to think ahead so accurately, seemingly anticipating issues that were completely nonexistent. How were they able to use environmental conservation so well? Roads were elevated, resulting in a small footprint. Emissions of any kind were strictly regulated. And despite most of the Lylat System's inhabitants living on Corneria, it was primarily a farming world.

But quite possibly their most profound achievement was the underground facilities they had envisioned. The threat of any kind of war or siege wasn't anywhere close to anyone's mind fifty years ago, but somehow, those leaders were able to spearhead the development of underground cities. Just in case the population needed somewhere to go during a crisis. After all, the advances in technology to help conserve a world didn't need to be turned very much to destroy it.

And if these emergency cities were going to be utilized, it was imperative that they were kept up. And so every day, the underground labyrinth of dwellings, medical facilities, ventilation shafts and other necessities for "rocking out" were checked and cleaned. Just in case they were needed. Corneria City had roughly a hundred technicians assigned to this task on any given shift, and each technician was assigned a specific task in a specific area.

Leo, a gangly lion, was the safety leader for his shift. In his hand was a datapad with a checklist of essential functions of the ventilation shafts. For each item, there were specific instructions on what to document and if pictures were needed.

Leo was checking the last shaft on his list when he noticed the ventilation fan was turning, but there was no air flow through the duct. The sensor in his hand indicated air was flowing _into_ the underground cavern, rather than out of it.

He scowled as he opened a cover near the shaft and flipped a switch with a key on his belt. The fan gradually slowed down and eventually stopped turning. Leo noticed the fan was in a reverse cycle, which explained why the air flow was backwards.

He wedged a jamming stick between the blades and the shaft. Reached up and flipped a switch above the blades. Removed the jamming stick and flipped the main power switch. And the fan began turning in the correct direction. Just to make sure, Leo checked the air flow with his sensor. Air flow going outward. He checked off the last item for this ventilation shaft on his list and guided the cherry picker back down to the bottom level of the underground city.

"Hey, Leo!" a voice rang out. It echoed down here because there wasn't any white noise from Cornerian inhabitants. Leo turned in the direction of the voice and found one of his coworkers, a goat of average height with black fur standing near a large blue drum. On his jacket, the name "Will" was embroidered. The drum probably had some kind of liquid inside.

Leo stepped out of the cherry picker and walked over to the other technician. "Who put this here?" he asked rhetorically.

The drum was a large plastic drum with an official-looking sign that simply read "DO NOT OPEN." There was nothing else remarkable about it.

"What should we do about this?" Will asked.

Leo pushed on the drum slightly, noticing it was generally full of some kind of liquid. There were no cables tethered to the drum, so it wasn't being used for support. "Document it, and we'll notify hazmat," he said robotically.

"Well, I think hazmat will have their hands full," Will said.

"Why?"

"Because this is the fourth barrel of liquid we've found today."

A faint tingle raced through Leo's spine. This barrel in front of him went from simply out-of-place to suspicious.

"Who else knows about these?"

Will thought for a little bit and replied, "Well, most everyone I've been around."

"Where are the rest of the barrels?"

"Nearest one's about fifty meters that way," Will said, pointing.

Leo took a deep breath, wondering what he should do with his team. Granted, they were mostly through their shift, but this put a damper on the next shift. Hazmat would have to come in here and remove these barrels before anyone else could be allowed in here.

"Let's have everyone stop and evacuate. I'll get the hazmat team in here, and they can start the process. I need the location of every barrel marked so they can do their job quickly."

"Got it," the goat said. He turned, took two steps away from Leo and abruptly stopped.

"Something wrong?" Leo asked.

"Do you smell that?"

Leo took a breath. Smelled almost like normal down here, slightly damp and cool, with a hint of burned almonds.

Wait. Almonds?

In the distance, one of Leo's technicians stumbled away from the rock wall like he was drunk before collapsing on the floor in a violent seizure. Ten seconds later, he was completely still.

"Oh, shit," Leo mumbled. He glanced again at Will and noticed he was hunched over slightly, his arms moving toward his chest.

"I-I can't breathe!" Will shouted.

Thinking quickly, Leo ran to the wall, where an alarm panel was stationed. He pulled the alarm lever down, and a klaxon began sounding throughout the underground city, alerting everyone and telling them to get out.

Leo held his breath, rushed back to Will and grabbed him underneath his arm. He began half-running, half-loping toward the exit away from the smell. Away from where the other technician collapsed. Will was gasping, trying his hardest to pull in air, but he couldn't do anything with it.

"C'mon, William, stay with me," Leo shouted as he dragged his friend. "We're almost there."

Leo turned right, heading into a tunnel where he saw a glimpse of the night sky. Will was still gasping, so he quickened his pace, hoping fresh air would help him breathe again.

As they emerged from underground, Will seized, thrashing just like the technician who had collapsed moments earlier. He fell, nearly wrenching Leo's shoulder from its socket. Will's snout hit the ground and crumpled slightly, spraying dark blood in a fine shower of droplets around his face. He tried to shout, but only a smothered gurgle came from his throat.

"WILL!" Leo shouted.

It didn't take long for Will to stop moving. Leo immediately noticed his chest was still. The pulse at his neck was nonexistent. Simply put, Will had dropped dead for no explicable reason.

In a final burst of effort, Leo shouted into his radio collar, "Techs down! Techs down!" He collapsed on his knees, tears running down his face, unable to comprehend what had just happened in the last two minutes. And as the safety leader, his job was to make sure his entire team got in and out of the caves alive.

He had failed.

* * *

Emergency crews rushed in and out of the caves, all of the personnel wearing gas masks. To Leo, they all looked like nondescript blurs.

"What's the count?" a medical officer said, standing near Leo. Nobody bothered asking the lion any questions, not when he was so traumatized. He knew he'd be grilled with an onslaught of questions soon, though.

"Twenty four dead so far," a hazmat team member replied.

_So far_. The death toll was gonna increase. There were one hundred nine workers on Leo's shift. At most, eighty five would go home to see their families again.

"Any cause?" the medical officer asked.

"All of them show signs of cyanide poisoning. Medical and hazmat teams have found several drums, all with the same contents."

A law enforcement official and investigator were also standing nearby. Both of them perked, knowing this was information they absolutely needed.

The hazmat grunt continued. "The barrels had a white, granular solid inside, separated from several liters of acid. Sulfuric, we think. Elemental analysis of the solid returned a probable formula of KCN, or potassium cyanide."

"Fuck," the investigator mumbled. "Whoever it was, they were turning the underground into a gas chamber."

All of the small crowd knew exactly what happened. Someone activated a drum by opening it. The potassium cyanide dropped into the acid, where it spewed out hydrogen cyanide gas. They also knew hydrogen cyanide was the gas of choice for capital punishment by gas chamber, even though Corneria had outlawed the death penalty about thirty years ago.

"Sir," the hazmat grunt said, facing the police officer. "We've gotta get the rest of those drums out of there now. Nobody else can be allowed underground until it's clear."

"How many barrels are there?" the police officer asked.

"Eight, so far."

"Hurry, then. Someone had to plant all of those drums in anticipation of an attack on Corneria City. Get those drums out as soon as possible."

"Our timetable is within four hours. Until then, we need to cordon off each entrance so we can transport the barrels somewhere less dangerous. Then you can focus on cleanup."

"All right. Thanks." The police officer turned away from the hazmat grunt, which was his signal to get started.

* * *

Fox was eating a small meal in preparation for the upcoming assignment. The Star Fox team knew indigestion would have been a major problem, so everyone (including Ben) was eating light. And they'd eat light tomorrow for breakfast.

"You ever flown in space, kid?" Falco asked.

Ben shook his head. Apparently, he had to get used to his new nickname. It didn't seem like he had a choice about it, anyway.

"Everything moves faster when there's no air to push against," Falco said.

"Your G-diffusers become your best friend," Fox added. "There's so little gravity that your Arwing will seem like it's hyper-sensitive."

Ben nodded solemnly in thought. It was pointless to ask if they thought he was ready for tomorrow. Both Falco and Fox had given their blessings, so wasn't that enough confirmation already? He was still nervous though.

This wasn't gonna be like the Anglar campaign, where he had set instructions the entire time. His job then was to be a proverbial rock striking a hornet's nest. And he did it almost flawlessly too. He'd find the lead Anglar pilot and begin shooting at that aircraft, forcing it into a dogfight. He was supposed to take out the lead pilot for every formation he ran across so that other Cornerian pilots could pick off the stragglers, when they were confused and intimidated that someone could make such short work of their leader.

But now, Ben was completely unsure of what to expect. General Peppy had only told him he'd be heading toward the Sargasso Station tomorrow because of a distress beacon. There was no role for him. He had to get to the Station, find the cause of the distress beacon, address it, and get back to Corneria. Those were his instructions.

_How much more vague can you get?_ he wondered.

"Oh, Ben," Slippy said suddenly. "Peppy told me about your experience with the Anglars."

"That's nice," Ben said quietly. He couldn't hide the tone of voice that told the world he didn't want to broach this subject.

"I'd like to hear why you sacrificed a plane on your last assignment," Slippy probed.

Falco and Fox paused eating, looking at Ben with interest. He kept his attention focused on his meal for a few seconds, trying to find some way to wriggle out of this conversation.

"I had to end it quickly," Ben said ambiguously after an awkward silence.

Fox scowled at him. "C'mon, kid. You're still alive. It's not like that's gonna condemn you for the rest of your life."

Ben sighed, because he had lost a lot of sleep over this. He had sacrificed his plane early in the assignment to take out a leading Anglar, leaving the rest of his team without a point man. Nobody on his team survived, except for him. Ever since, he wondered if he could have done something differently. Something that would have kept one more Cornerian pilot alive. One more of his friends.

"One of the pilots shouted into the comm line that an Anglar was equipped with a hot nova bomb. And I was closest to that aircraft. I shot at the aircraft with lasers, and it pulled into a kamikaze strike. So I dove underneath and gutted its engines with a wing tip."

"What happened after that?" Falco asked. He had a vague inkling of what Ben was going to say.

Ben sighed. "The Anglar spiraled into the ground just outside of the western edge of Corneria City. And the bomb detonated."

Fox looked at Ben, trying to hide his expression of realization. About a fifth of Corneria City was nearly wiped off the map thanks to a nova bomb. It had exploded some hours before the Star Fox team arrived.

Ben noticed Fox's awkward attempt at hiding his expression. "Go ahead," he said with a sigh. "Tell me I fucked my team over. Tell me you woulda been a hero and stopped that Anglar."

There was a long silence, as Fox knew saying one word would shatter the kid he recruited.

"You just…you begin to wonder if there was some little detail you missed in those seconds," Ben continued. "Something, some kind of magic bullet that woulda just stopped that bomb." He paused for a beat, and said, "I still have nightmares about it. Every time, I'm five seconds too slow to stop the bomb from detonating in the middle of Corneria City." He looked back down at his meal. "I can't finish this," he said quietly. He stood and walked straight toward the bathrooms.

Slippy watched Ben as he walked away, wondering if Peppy, Fox and Falco had made the wrong choice by letting Ben on this assignment.

"Don't say a word about it when he gets back," Falco warned his compatriots. He was referring to Ben's state of mind. Don't try to console him. Don't try to tell him it'll be okay.

Without warning, Fox's holoprojector beeped in his pocket. He grunted and removed it, placing it on the table.

"Answer," Fox announced.

A second later, a holographic image of Peppy's head materialized. "All four of you there?" he asked.

"Yes," Fox lied. "Any last-minute advice for the kid?"

"Not now," Peppy said urgently. Before anyone could ask about his tone of voice, he continued. "There's been a cyanide leak in the underground city."

"Who in their right mind would put _cyanide_ into the underground!?" Slippy shouted.

"Investigators are working on that," Peppy said quickly. "Thirty one technicians are dead."

"That must've been a lot of cyanide," Fox inferred. The rest of the Star Fox team looked at him quizzically, so he continued. "The underground is a big place. How do you kill thirty-one workers that quickly with a small amount of gas?"

Falco nodded in agreement.

"This is a long shot, but does Ben know anything about this?"

Falco made a show of glancing toward where Ben was sitting, trying to avoid tipping Peppy off. "No."

"Well, just make sure you four are covering each other's backs," Peppy admonished.

"W-why are you t-telling us this now?" Slippy asked. "Don't we do that already?"

"_We_ do," Falco chided. "_You_ ask for cover."

"I've gotten a hold of the investigators and told them about the distress beacon at Sargasso. I also informed them about Fox's concussion and the two thugs that tried to attack Slippy."

"How much do you wanna bet that they ignored you?" Fox asked.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what they did," Peppy said with a sigh. "But tomorrow, be on the lookout for any signs of foul play that connect Sargasso to what happened here recently."

"Got it," Falco said indifferently.

"Okay. Thanks. Peppy out." The holoprojector beeped a second time and shut itself off. Fox replaced it in his pocket.

Fox, Falco and Slippy looked at their meals, which were half-finished. Falco sighed and asked, "What do you think our timeline is for this assignment?"

Slippy shrugged. "Four days, maybe a week," he said, but he didn't seem too sure about it.

"Do you think we should scrub the launch again?" Fox asked. He thought he knew what Falco was onto.

"I don't think so, but I think we should be quick about Sargasso. Killing that many individuals with cyanide gas takes a lot of effort. I think someone is organizing this in secret," Falco answered.

"I still think we should head to Sargasso," Fox said. "We're the only ones who can get there quickly. We've got the military to patrol here on the ground." Falco nodded and was silent. End of conversation.

After a moment, the bathroom door opened to reveal Ben shuffling back toward the three of them. Falco stood from his chair and beckoned Ben to follow him.

"Are you okay to launch tomorrow?" Falco asked.

"Yessir," Ben said. Almost too quickly.

"Look, we've already scrubbed this launch once. It's not gonna happen again, so you've gotta be absolutely sure by tomorrow everything is fine."

"It will be," Ben replied.

"We believe in you, kid. So you can worry all you want about what happened six months ago, but once you're in space, none of that matters anymore."

"I understand. Thanks."


	7. Chapter 6

One little glitch. That was all it could take to derail a plan of this magnitude. And such a glitch happened nearly two days ago.

The taxi Fox McCloud rode in wasn't supposed to end up in a T-bone collision. Fox wasn't supposed to be concussed. He was supposed to be heading toward the Sargasso station, if not already there by today. But as fate would have it, Fox still had his feet on Cornerian soil.

The ram scowled as he kept thinking about that taxi driver. Somehow that young colt had gotten wind of his scheme and tried to intervene on Fox's behalf.

So brave. Or idiotic for putting a dignitary's life on the line.

The ram looked the colt up and down, the colt who hadn't made a sound for the last hour or so. The colt who kept him fixed with an off-putting glare, as if a single look could kill.

The colt was zip-tied to a simple metal chair, both hands and both ankles bound to the frame. The chair itself was anchored to the floor. Escape was impossible.

"Not gonna talk?" the ram asked rhetorically. "That's fine. You don't have to tell us why you decided to crash your taxi with Fox McCloud in it. We know why you did it. I just want a name. Tell me who told you to keep Fox's feet on Corneria."

The ram waited, hoping for a response. The colt looked him in the eye with the same gaze.

"If you don't tell me, you die," the ram said flatly after a tense moment. For effect, he held up a syringe filled about halfway with a silvery liquid that looked like elemental mercury. "Being killed with a blaster shot has got to be far more merciful than death from nanorobotics. Because a gunshot is usually quick. You don't get a chance to think about any regrets you had in life. But nanites? I can control how slowly you die. And the longer you wait to give me a name, the slower your death will be."

The colt knew there was no way for him to survive from the moment he picked up Fox from his home at Greywall Drive. He could only hope that Fox stayed on Corneria long enough to stop this ram from realizing his goal. He had only one hope left, and then he knew his death was coming.

"Fox McCloud," the colt finally said.

"What?" the ram asked, thrown mentally for a loop.

The colt stayed silent. Those were the only two words he was gonna say. Inside, he was kicking himself for not telling Fox face-to-face about this ram. Even if Fox wouldn't have believed him, he'd still at least be aware of the ram's plans.

"Are you stupid?" the ram said. "If Fox knew about the utopia we have in mind, he would've enlisted our help a year ago."

_Bullshit,_ the colt thought. But he said nothing.

"Hold him still," the ram instructed.

The colt thought what the ram said was curious, seeing as he was bound tightly to the chair. He could move around somewhat, but he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. But suddenly, a sharp sting pierced his neck on the right side, followed by an uncomfortable chill spreading from his neck into his chest.

"I'm so glad you didn't hesitate this time," the ram said, looking at whoever had injected the colt. He had ice in his tone, like he was willing to sacrifice that grunt at a moment's notice.

The ram pulled out what looked like a remote and pressed a button with his thumb.

It didn't take long for the colt to realize what had happened. Within a second, his chest, neck, face and upper arms felt like they were boiling from the inside. He screamed out in horrified pain, wishing desperately he could tear his skin open to let the searing heat out. But his hands were rooted to the arm rests on the chair.

Instinctively, he tried to raise his right hand to his face. Just maybe tearing himself open would stop all this pain. He felt the zip tie cutting into his wrist as the pain intensified and spread throughout his body, becoming most intense in his chest. His vision began to cloud as he screamed out into the darkness, hoping someone would hear him.

Just as suddenly as the pain had started, it abated. It wasn't completely gone, but the burning sensation was barely tolerable for now.

"What did I tell you?" the ram asked calmly as he sidled up to the colt. To the colt it sounded like his voice was echoing from a mile away, even though he could smell the ram's breath. "We've had plenty of time to get the nanites just right. I'll leave you at death's door and keep you there until you tell me who tipped you off. And don't worry; we have ways of keeping you just barely alive in your own little hell. So go ahead, _don't_ say a word. We'll see who cracks first."

He kept his eyes fixed on the colt for a few seconds and then popped his right boot into the colt's shin. The metal cap at the tip of the boot landed with a sharp _thunk_, causing the colt to wince in pain. But since his voice was already spent, he couldn't make any sounds. Satisfied for now, the ram walked away.

* * *

Fox's holoprojector beeped and whirred to life, startling him from his sleep.

"Answer," he said with a yawn.

Soon, Peppy's face appeared. "Shuttle launch in three hours, Fox. Breakfast will be there in one hour. Get your team ready."

"On it," Fox said with another yawn.

Without another word, the holoprojector deactivated. Fox groaned as he crawled out of the cot that had been provided to him. As far as makeshift amenities went, the cot was okay. He'd slept on worse surfaces, such as the seat in an Arwing. Or dirt, as was the case several times on Sauria. Where he met Krystal, who had left his life just as quickly as she had entered it. Fox still kicked himself for that, over half a year later.

As he stood, the lights inside the port began showing signs of life. They slowly faded on, gradually becoming brighter as time passed. Within two minutes, the inside of the port was completely illuminated, providing a stark contrast to the still-dark early morning sky.

Fox headed past Falco, who was just barely standing from his cot, toward the restrooms.

Slippy stirred, his sleep interrupted by the waxing lights.

And Ben was almost entirely awake. He had been all night. For some reason, his brain was racing at warp speed, and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was anticipation of what he had dreamed of for so long. Or maybe it was because he had to relive the worst moments in his life. Whatever it was, it left him feeling like an insomniac at midday.

Not thinking anything was out of the ordinary, Fox headed into the bathroom, where he showered and got dressed. He bumped into Falco on the way out.

"Did ya check on the kid?" Falco asked.

Fox looked at him curiously. "No. Why?"

"No sleep."

"Great…" Fox mumbled. "I guess he'll have to figure something out on the Great Fox. We can't have a narcoleptic with post-traumatic stress flying an Arwing."

"Who said he was a narcoleptic?" Falco shot back. "All I was saying is that he didn't sleep a wink last night."

"All right," Fox conceded. "I didn't mean it that way. I just don't wanna babysit someone while we're on an assignment."

"I don't either. But you've gotta take care of your team, Fox."

"And you and Slippy can't help with that!?" Fox nearly shouted. He realized just in time that he and Falco were talking about Ben, who wasn't far away at the moment.

"If nothing else, make sure he feels like he's actually part of this team," Falco said, generally ignoring Fox's complaint. And without another word, he entered the bathroom.

Fox rolled his eyes in irritation. Even though Falco was right about making sure Ben felt like he was part of the Star Fox team, Fox still wasn't going to bend over backwards for him.

As Fox walked back toward his cot where his belongings were, he passed Ben, who was sitting on his own cot. Something in Fox's brain stopped his feet. Awkwardly, he turned to Ben and tried to say something.

"Feelin' okay?" he asked after a silence that seemed too long.

"Y-yessir," Ben replied. "Didn't get a lot of sleep, but I'll be fine." He looked Fox in the eye, and Fox noticed one of the telltale signs of no rest. Ben's eyes were somewhat unfocused.

"Once we're on the Great Fox, I'd like for you to get some rest. Piloting an Arwing in space isn't like flying in the Cornerian atmosphere. There won't be a lot going on out there."

"Okay. Thank you, sir," Ben said. He yawned soon after.

Fox paused for a beat, then said, "You don't have to call me 'sir.'"

Ben smirked a little, looking up at Fox. "Got it."

Fox resumed his trek back toward his cot. Oddly, he felt satisfied after that little conversation. He returned to his belongings and began packing what he needed in a duffel bag. Bathroom essentials, an extra jumpsuit, and a few other odds and ends he liked to have around on the Great Fox.

"Good morning!" a voice rang out from the other end of the terminal. It was Peppy.

Instinctively, Ben stood ramrod straight and gave him a salute.

"G'morning, sir," Ben said robotically. Peppy nodded at him.

"Breakfast is on its way. Eat light, because you need to be alert," Peppy said, mostly toward Ben. Fox, Falco and Slippy knew what it was like getting out of the Cornerian atmosphere. "You'll be piloting your Arwings alongside the Great Fox, and you'll dock once you're in space."

Upon seeing Ben's slightly confused look, Falco said, "This Great Fox isn't made for long periods in space. And it doesn't have the fuel reserves to leave a planet and then go somewhere."

"That sounds kinda cheap," Ben observed.

"Free," Peppy corrected. "Space Dynamics was very kind to modify an existing carrier for us after we lost the original Great Fox."

Ben almost replied with a mention of the Aparoids, but stopped himself. Peppy's decision to scuttle the Great Fox probably wasn't something he was happy about. Even if it was the only way to get rid of that threat. Fleetingly, he wondered if that decision somehow forced him into retirement.

"While we're waiting, I've got a few last-minute additions," Peppy said.

Fox, Slippy and Ben turned toward him with interest. Falco continued to sit on his cot, seemingly paying attention to nothing at all. But he was listening nonetheless.

"First, you'll be out of immediate contact with us here," Peppy began. "The quickest way to get radio transmissions from Sargasso to here is through our base at Aquas. Once you're in space, switch to Channel Beta-Three. It's encrypted, so you'll have to identify yourselves. That channel goes through Aquas and will remain open for communication. Once you're at Sargasso, there will be a twenty two-minute delay for any kind of conversation."

"I thought Sargasso was closer than that," Falco interrupted.

"Eleven minutes to get a transmission to Corneria, eleven minutes for a reply, because everything will be going through the base at Aquas," Peppy clarified. "Basically, it won't be easy to have a conversation with anyone not at Sargasso."

"What else?" Fox asked.

"Aquas has been monitoring the activity in the Sargasso area, and they've noticed several more cargo movements than normal, as well as increased activity. Most of those cargo movements are outbound, which makes us think the Sargasso station is in some kind of trouble."

"Any s-sign of Wolf?" Slippy asked. Falco rolled his eyes.

"No, but from Aquas, it's hard to distinguish what type of craft is leaving the station anyway. He's probably still there, so be on the lookout. We think the extra activity isn't going to help you get into Sargasso, so you'll have to make sure ROB is taking care of the Great Fox at Aquas. You'll leave the Great Fox in orbit and continue on in Arwings. After that, be prepared for dogfights."

Fox and Falco exchanged glances. Fox grinned. Falco winked.

"Is the station still sending out a distress beacon?" Ben asked.

"Yes, still the same signal as two days ago," Peppy said. "There hasn't been any change in the intensity or frequency of the signal, so we know it's on a loop." Falco glanced upward at Peppy. "Yes, we're investigating why there's so much activity, but the distress beacon is being looped," he said, preempting Falco's question.

Just then, the doors to the terminal slid open, revealing a dark-feathered owl pushing in a trolley with the Star Fox team's breakfast.

"General, sir?" he said, addressing Peppy. Peppy turned around to face him. "Your meal is here. Please leave everything on the cart when you're finished, and we'll retrieve it once the launch is complete."

"Okay, thank you."

The owl nodded and left without another word.

Slippy was the first to attack the cart, looking for anything that might be enticing. Falco was next, followed by Fox. Ben was last, but he didn't mind. There was enough food for everyone.

* * *

"Diagnostics check passed. My Arwing's ready to go," Ben said from the cockpit of his aircraft.

"Three so far," Peppy's voice crackled over the Star Fox team's headsets. "Waiting for confirmation from Slippy."

"No good," Slippy replied after a brief moment. "Cockpit s-seal is showing a l-leak."

"No more waiting!" Falco shouted. "Somehow, we've gotta get to Sargasso and figure out what's going on. We can't have another scrubbed launch."

"Slippy, I think there's some cyanoacrylate glue in the repair kit," Peppy said.

Slippy laughed sarcastically and said, "Sure! That's the last thing we need, is a pilot who's high."

"There's no way to fix the problem?" Peppy asked, generally ignoring Slippy's tone of voice.

"H-hold on," Slippy said through the radio collar. "I'm pressurizing the cabin, and where the c-console is showing a leak, there's no outflow. Sensor's g-gone out-of-whack. And my ears are popping."

Ben heard Falco chuckling through the radio collar and allowed himself a little smirk.

"Once we're on the Great Fox, Slippy, you'll need to address that problem for good," Fox said through the radio collar.

"Got it. Sensor's d-deactivated. So other than that, diagnostics are good."

Ben glanced one more time at the Great Fox, which was tethered to the top of a freighter. The plan was for the freighter to take off like a conventional airplane, and once it reached target velocity, the cables holding the Great Fox would disconnect as it fired its thrusters. Basically, it was getting a push from the freighter before it got to space.

"I just established communications with ROB. You're ready to go," Peppy announced.

"Follow my lead," Fox said over the communicators. "We'll rendezvous with the Great Fox once we're in orbit. From there, our next stop is Aquas."

Without asking for confirmation, the Arwing to Ben's left lifted vertically from the ground. It was Fox. Falco, Slippy and Ben followed without hesitation. The flight path for the Arwings had already been set by Peppy, so the Star Fox team simply had to follow the prompts on the holographic displays.

Ben followed the line of three Arwings in front of him. Despite the lack of sleep, he was too wired to drift off at the moment. He kept a safe distance behind the Arwing in front of him.

"Oh, it feels GOOD to be here today!" Falco shouted over the communications channel. Ben smirked. It was the first time he had seen Falco truly excited about something.

"When you come back, I want to see the exact same attitude," Peppy joked. "Your rendezvous point is clear and free of any hostiles, so starting the trip to Aquas shouldn't be a problem."

"Sounds great!" Fox shouted.

Peppy watched as the four Arwings receded against the morning sky. It was almost surreal seeing four Arwings flying from the outside.

"This is the carrier for the Great Fox, requesting permission to depart," the pilot's voice crackled over Peppy's intercom.

"Permission granted," Peppy replied.

The carrier slowly taxied away from the terminal, turned and rolled down a runway, picking up speed as it left Peppy's sight.


	8. Chapter 7

"ROB, what is the ETA for our rendezvous with Aquas?" Fox asked.

"Estimated time of arrival is eight hours," the robot said in his trademark monotone and synthesized voice. "The time remaining is displayed on the astrogation console."

Fox nodded as the holographic numbers appeared above the console in bright yellow text.

Falco had already told Ben to find a quiet area on the Great Fox to rest. Unfortunately, this particular model was nowhere near as well-equipped as the previous version. Falco missed the original Great Fox, with specific areas for living, sleeping, eating, you name it. That mothership was like a home in space. But the Great Fox*, as Slippy referred to it, barely had the essential amenities that might belong in a home. Inflatable mattresses served as beds, and there was no defined room for sleeping.

Ben had wandered away from the only defined area on this floating piece of scrap. ROB simply called it the console area. It didn't take long for Ben to begin exploring, letting the adrenaline of what ended up being an anticlimactic launch wear off.

"Make sure you're well-rested," Fox had told him gravely. "You _will_ be dogfighting at Sargasso."

After ten minutes, he had explored all of the Great Fox, nearly wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.

_There's no way this "Star Fox" team is the same one that I've been dreaming about_, he thought. Everyone was simply relaxed, seemingly unconcerned, and boring.

"It feels _great_ to be back here," Fox said with a sigh as Ben walked out to finally get some rest. His fatigue had caught up with him, coupled with the almost blasé attitudes Fox, Falco and Slippy were displaying.

_I signed up to help protect the Lylat System,_ Ben thought. _Not sit around in a piece of junk like this._ He silently scoffed at himself for thinking the Star Fox team was composed of nothing but hard rock music and death-defying fights in Arwings. Granted, the dogfights were what they were famous for, but Ben realized that a lot of the Star Fox team's job was a patrol.

He figured Peppy and Fox were right about the Sargasso area though. There probably was plenty of action to be a part of, but luckily, it only happened in sporadic bursts. As Ben thought for a moment, he realized he should have been grateful that intense situations only happened rarely. He yawned as he found one of the inflatable mattresses already set up. Looked around. Nobody was nearby, and the only sound was the constant one-note hum of the engines. White noise. Something that could help him fall asleep.

Behind him, Slippy walked by, having finished tinkering with his Arwing and its faulty sensor. He joined Fox and Falco in the console area.

While Ben got situated out of sight, the rest of the Star Fox team quietly chatted about whatever came to their minds. The latest political issues in Corneria City. Or the recent sporting events that had been marred by not-yet-illegal stimulant injections.

_That_ was a hot-button topic for Slippy. He enjoyed following his favorite sporting teams around Corneria. And when it came to light that one of his teams had confessed to using those injections, he felt completely deflated.

"Yeah, that's frustrating," Slippy continued. "I don't understand how athletes think they need all these unfair advantages. What's wrong with just practicing your rear end off and letting your skills show?"

"You ask that question every time," Falco pointed out. "You know they get paid more to win, so why _not_ use those boosters?"

"It's unfair," he countered.

Falco suppressed a laugh. "You think they care about being fair?"

"W-well, no," Slippy said. "I j-just hate that we look up to these athletes who can p-play these games so well, and then they just…they, I don't know…they _lie_ about it."

"Well, when you find that ideal world without performance-enhancing drugs, I'll let you know how boring it is," Falco taunted. Truth be told, Falco was on Slippy's side about the same topic, but he couldn't resist slipping in a few verbal jabs.

Slippy groaned in frustration. Looking for a distraction, he glanced at the astrogation console. ETA for Aquas was in two hours.

Without a topic for discussion, Falco stretched out in his seat and sighed after a few seconds. "Feels nice to be here again," he mumbled to no one in particular, echoing Fox's sentiments from earlier.

Fox nodded silently, but Falco wasn't looking in his direction. Everything was silent for a moment, except for the quiet hum of the engines and artificial gravity generator.

"Incoming transmission from General Peppy," ROB suddenly said to the three Star Fox members behind him.

Fox jumped slightly at ROB's intrusion on the peace and quiet. "Open a comm link to Peppy," he said.

"Affirmative," ROB said. Soon after he clarified, "The transmission is a message only."

An instant later, a holographic image of Peppy's face appeared above the communications console. "Fox, our base at Aquas has determined that cargo moves have stopped at Sargasso. We are not sure if the base has been abandoned, but make sure you treat it as if it isn't. Peppy out." A soft blip sounded, and the holographic display disappeared.

"Maybe Wolf and crew kicked everyone else out," Slippy conjectured.

"Or maybe something's seriously wrong with the base at Sargasso," Falco said.

"Well, we're gonna find out soon," Fox said in half-anticipation. To him, this was the worst part about knowing a dogfight was about to happen. The waiting. It was like a horror story, where something was about to jump out of the shadows and grab the main character. Once the initial panic subsides, it's simply a matter of not letting adrenaline get in the way of what needs to be done.

"Disengaging warp drive," ROB abruptly informed Falco, Fox and Slippy. Without allowing for a word of protest, the engines on the Great Fox kicked into gear, going from a dull hum to a shrill whine as the ship decelerated. The joists holding the Great Fox together groaned at the sudden change in speed. At the same time, ROB pulled up a holographic screen and pushed a button. From down the main corridor, the Star Fox team heard Ben grunt in alarm.

"Care to explain this, ROB?" Falco half-shouted.

"Hostile units detected at Aquas," ROB simply informed monotonically. "Evasive maneuvers will be necessary."

"Evasive maneuvers? You're joking, right?" Fox asked. He knew the answer, though. ROB only stated the facts. Compliments of being a robot.

"Hostile units detected at Aquas," ROB repeated.

"Dammit," Falco said under his breath. "All right, someone make sure the kid is awake. Once we've reached a slow enough speed, we're in our Arwings." Fox, Falco and Slippy knew this Great Fox wasn't built for evasive maneuvers. It was up to them to defend it.

"I'm awake," Ben said as he lunged into the console area, hanging onto a wall for balance. "What the hell's going on?"

"ROB, inform Peppy that we've encountered hostiles at Aquas on a direct transmission," Fox instructed, indirectly answering Ben's question.

"Affirmative." There was a tense pause as all of them waited for the ship's speed to stabilize. Although the Great Fox had artificial gravity, it didn't have a diffuser system powerful enough for its weight, which made sudden jolts like this somewhat uncomfortable. Not to mention difficult to move around.

"I thought the general said we'd be clear to Aquas!" Ben shouted.

"Yeah, well, it seems someone's gotten word of our arrival and wants to say 'hello,'" Fox replied.

Fox watched as ROB went to work, bringing up holographic screens around him, his arms flying in different directions. He quickly pounded out a message for Peppy and closed that screen, replacing it with a radar image of the incoming hostile units.

"The radio frequency of the hostiles cannot be resolved," ROB said without emotion. "They cannot be reached for communication."

"We don't have time to talk with them!" Fox shouted. "Just let us know when we're at a stable speed!"

"Affirmative."

They waited. The radar screen showed several blips descending toward the center, which was the location of the Great Fox.

"The Great Fox can now be traversed," ROB informed.

They didn't need to be told twice. Fox quickly reacted, turning toward the corridor and shouted, "C'mon!" All four of them took off, leaving ROB at the console area.

A moment later, Fox was first into his Arwing. He blazed through the checklist as he activated every system without thinking. Soon, the engines whined to life as his cockpit closed over him.

"Diagnostics check passed," Fox announced through his radio collar.

"Pass," Falco echoed.

"All clear!" Slippy shouted.

Ben wasn't as familiar with the startup of an Arwing, so after about ten seconds, his voice crackled into the intercoms. "Clear."

"Arwing hangar is depressurizing," ROB announced. "Thirty seconds to launch."

"Kid, what was your job as a fighter pilot for the Cornerian Air Force?" Fox asked quickly.

"Point man," Ben stated. "Take out the lead aircraft fast, and help the team pick off stragglers."

"That's your job now," Fox replied. "Me, Falco and Slippy are gonna be flanking. You find the lead crafts and take them out. We're in space, so no prisoners."

"Got it."

The hangar doors opened silently, thanks to the lack of air around the Arwings. "Clear to launch," ROB informed.

In front of the Star Fox team was Aquas, an almost-completely blue planet because its surface was nearly covered by water. A few small islands peppered the vast ocean. From this distance, Aquas covered about half of the canopy glass of Ben's Arwing, but he knew the planet was about the size of Corneria. He didn't risk saying anything about the vista into his radio collar, not when his adrenaline was about to spike.

"Launching!" Fox shouted. Not a second later, his Arwing left the hangar. Falco, Slippy and Ben followed, heading straight for Aquas.

"Hostile units at two o'clock!" Slippy shouted.

The Arwing to Ben's right veered in that direction. Ben quickly followed, keeping a tight formation with the Arwing in front of him. "Clear to engage?" Falco shouted over his radio collar.

"The lead craft's not on an aggressive line!" Slippy shouted. "It's not heading for us!"

Sure enough, the lead craft was flying at an angle, heading upward relative to the approaching Arwings. Behind that one fighter, however, were at least twenty more. All of them had what looked like Venomian features.

At a glance, it was easy to tell what factions most fighter crafts belonged to. There were the Arwings, which were angular with blue-and-silver color schemes. The Wolfens were possibly more streamlined with red as their prominent color. And Venomians seemed like they belonged in a lush, tropical world with their palettes of green, grey and black. They weren't necessarily streamlined, but it never seemed to matter to Fox. The fighters were weak by themselves, but their pilots tended to swarm, which made aerial and space engagements risky.

"Looks like Venomian fighters," Falco observed. "Then why is _that_ one breaking off away from the swarm?"

Ben maneuvered his Arwing to get a closer look at the lone Venomian fighter. He noticed its underside didn't match what was on top, like it had been modified for a specific purpose.

"The fuselage doesn't look right!" he shouted over his radio collar.

"Those fighters only carry a few missiles and can shoot lasers," Slippy responded quickly.

"I don't see any missiles," Ben said. "It looks like it's got bay doors that open underneath."

"Oh, shit," Fox said. "Kid, you've gotta stop that fighter. I don't care how you do it, but it's armed with a bomb."

_Bomb._

Ben froze, realizing he was being thrown into the exact same predicament that had been haunting him for the last six months. Only this time, if he failed, he'd be stuck here in space with no option to return home.

He quickly went through a mental checklist, following his training for engaging with laser fire.

Was the bomb hot? Couldn't tell.

Was the fighter on an aggressive path? Not really.

_Where_ was the fighter headed? Nearest object it could reach was probably the Great Fox, but it would require pitching the craft's angle downward.

Ben thought for half a second, nearly settling on strafing the fighter with laser fire, when it suddenly tilted downward, preparing for an attack on the Great Fox.

"Engaging with lasers!" he shouted as his finger squeezed the trigger for a short burst.

"Take care of that fighter!" Falco shouted. "We've got the rest covered!"

The first few rounds of Ben's salvo collided with the Venomian fighter. It responded by veering off its intended course slightly, which brought the Great Fox into the line of fire.

"Nice try, you little shit," Ben mumbled. He adjusted his aim and fired another burst of lasers, most of them intentionally missing low in an effort to force the Venomian off its course. The last few rounds of the burst silently tore into the fighter, causing what looked like smoke to Ben's eyes to spew out of the craft. Unlike what he had seen on Corneria with smoke, where it rises and is visible for a long while, the smoke cloud quickly disappeared after it got about a foot from the fighter. Ben thought it was curious to see a damaged craft respond in such a quirky way, but then he realized he was in space. In a vacuum.

The Venomian fighter kept following a circular path, and about halfway through its maneuver, Ben realized it was preparing for another run. His feet slammed down on the G-diffuser pedals, and he banked his Arwing tightly to intercept the fighter for good. Ben knew whoever was piloting this fighter had one chance left to deploy his cargo, and he couldn't afford to force the pilot off-course again.

As the fighter completed its circular turn, Ben locked onto the canopy glass and fired another burst of lasers. The first of his rounds hit true, shattering the glass and sending floating shards away from the fighter. Ben's Arwing was close enough to see the pilot put his hand up reflexively as his cockpit quickly depressurized with a translucent white fog. The pilot's chest quickly swelled, followed by his throat as he panicked with haphazard arm and hand movements.

Ben grimaced, now knowing he was witnessing what happens to someone upon extreme decompression. In a gesture of mercy, he quickly strafed the length of the fighter with laser fire, causing the bomb held inside to explode. Ben reflexively slammed his feet down on the G-diffuser pedals and banked hard left to avoid the noiseless explosion of the craft. For a few seconds, he tensed, bracing himself for the inevitable shock wave, but his Arwing never jarred. There was no air to compress in space.

_After all this is over, I'm keeping my feet on the ground,_ he thought half-sarcastically. He began piloting his Arwing toward the general area of where Fox, Falco and Slippy had engaged the rest of the Venomian swarm, but there was no sign of any kind of battle here. Only three miniature Arwings, a little bit of debris, and a majestically blue planet as the backdrop.

"Ben, status update," Fox demanded over the radio collar.

"Pilot's dead," Ben said back, trying to keep himself composed. "No longer a threat to the Great Fox."

Dogfighting in space was markedly different from what Ben was used to on Corneria. Cornerian battles had explosions with shock waves. There was sound that you had to mentally filter out. You could eject if your craft became crippled.

But in space, every little aspect was different. Yes, Fox and Falco were right that trying to handle an Arwing in space was difficult. But they never said anything about how he had no margin for error in battle. He realized if his Arwing was crippled, his chances for survival were slim-to-none. The Venomian pilot he took out showed him exactly why.

"Good job, kid," Falco said over his radio collar. His tone sounded like everything that had happened within the last twenty minutes was a daily routine.

"What happened to the rest of the fighters?" Ben asked as he piloted his Arwing away from the Great Fox.

"Most of them retreated back to Aquas after we engaged them," Slippy said.

"No threats to the Great Fox?" Ben asked.

"As of now, no," Fox responded. "But their retreat means they could be back soon. So we've got to make a decision. Do we continue to Sargasso? Or do we stay with the Great Fox?"

"If we continue to Sargasso, then we'd be leaving the Great Fox alone here," Falco pointed out. "It'd be tough to go anywhere if it gets damaged."

"We're gonna make this decision as a team. I vote Sargasso," Fox announced.

"Sargasso," Falco echoed.

Ben heard Slippy heave a sigh over the radio collar. "Sargasso," he finally concluded.

Ben thought it over for a moment. Leaving the Great Fox here was just asking for another attack. But he couldn't think of any reason to stay with the mothership, other than to protect it. To him, that seemed overly cautious for an assignment that was meant for an investigation.

"Sargasso," he finally decided. "But I think we should move the Great Fox away from Aquas."


	9. Chapter 8

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-141-8

Cornerian Air Force R&amp;D lead (and by extension, the Cornerian Defense System) asked us to develop a cloaking device that does not suspend operations to any weapon or defense systems on board a carrier or fighter plane. Such cloaking devices pull power from weapons and shielding due to their marginally-conductive nature, thus requiring a massive amount of electricity to activate. If we could develop a metamaterial that conducts electricity, then the power input needed would drop substantially, negating the need to steal from other on-board systems.

After discussion with our team, we settled on two possibilities: either (a) use an electrically-conducting polymer within the metamaterial resin; or (b) load copper wire inside the resin and cure. Application of Ockham's Razor suggests method (b) is the better choice because it is simpler to make a grid of wire instead of an inter-penetrating polymer network.

Experiment 1: I fashioned a two-dimensional grid of 1-mm copper wire with square gaps of sides 1 cm in length. The grid was placed in a liquid resin containing the monomer and thermal initiator and degassed under vacuum for 2 hours. The container was then heated to 60°C for one hour in an air-circulating oven, resulting in a turbid white flexible solid with the copper wire generally visible on the interior. Two copper leads were left untouched to connect in a circuit. When the circuit was closed and current applied, the cured resin demonstrated its negative index of refraction, causing the apparent disappearance of the resin and copper wire. Lowering the current maintained the cloaking properties, down to a minimum current of 100 milliamps. Below this threshold, the cloaking illusion was much less convincing, meaning 100 milliamps is the lowest possible current to generate reliable cloaking behavior with this particular setup.

Experiment 2: On a hunch, the copper wire grid was fashioned using copper wire grid with square gaps of sides 0.7 cm in length. Resulting area of holes is 0.5 square centimeters. All other conditions were the same. Application of current revealed that the minimum threshold to achieve reliable cloaking is 10 milliamps. Evidence suggests the amperage required for cloaking follows a square root law with respect to the hole size in the copper grid.

Experiment 3: Verification of the supposed square root law. The copper wire was fashioned using copper wire grid with sides 0.5 cm in length. Resulting area of holes is 0.25 square centimeters. All other conditions were the same. Minimum current threshold was 3.2 milliamps, which seems to verify conjecture on the square root law.

Despite confirmation of hole size being related to cloaking current, I noticed peculiar behavior with the metamaterial at 10 milliamps or higher in Experiment 3. Instead of simply cloaking as did the other setups, the immediate area surrounding the cured resin showed what looked like distortion. The surrounding area extended to approximately 1 cm away from the metamaterial and took on the color of the lab bench beneath the experimental setup. For application purposes, perhaps it would be wise to limit the amount of current flowing into the cured resin, as too much current will compromise the cloaking illusion.

* * *

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-142-8

Cornerian Defense R&amp;D lead, Beltino Toad, is intrigued by the unexpected behavior in Experiment 3. I showed him the setup and demonstrated the odd behavior, unmindful of a nearby plastic water container. Upon application of the requisite current, we noticed the water in the container sloshing gently. As the resin is electrically conductive while current is flowing, we did not touch it. Moving the water container closer to the sample caused the water to begin flowing toward the wall of the container closest to the sample. At a distance of approximately 3 cm, the container immediately jumped toward the sample, sticking the two objects together. All of the water in the container was collected against the wall nearest the sample, which could be due to water's diamagnetism. However, examining the area near the sample with a magnetometer revealed that the sample showed no magnetic field that was in excess of an electrical current. When the current was switched off, the container could be freely moved again.

Beltino said he'd take a look at previous work done on similar research topics. He noted that this behavior seemed familiar from several years ago.

* * *

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-143-8

While Beltino was looking through prior research, I set up an experiment to determine the nature of this metamaterial's attraction to other objects.

Magnetic field is ruled out from test described above. Magnetometer shows no excessive magnetic field. Besides, a magnetic field strong enough to polarize water would be easily felt and possibly injurious or lethal.

I set up the same experiment as above, except the water container was empty and dry. When the container was moved to within approximately 3 cm of the energized sample, the same result occurred. The container jumped to the sample and stuck there. Switching off the power source released the sample's hold on the container. Since the container is made of polypropylene, I am leaning toward concluding that the metamaterial is generating its own controllable gravitational force when energized.

Upon presenting my conclusions to Beltino, he immediately scheduled a meeting with the Cornerian Defense System officials. I was asked to attend to present my findings.

Soon after scheduling the meeting, Beltino showed results from about two decades ago in a joint research project with the Defense System in developing what would become a gravity bomb. This research was spearheaded by the notorious Dr. Andross. I immediately voiced my concerns about weaponizing this type of system, as it could easily become a weapon of mass destruction, given enough energized resin.

Despite my misgivings, I still presented what we had discovered in the planned meeting.

* * *

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-144-8

Disaster.

After presenting the recent metamaterial research to the Cornerian Defense System, several of the officials asked to see a demonstration. Once inside the lab, I activated the electrical flow through the metamaterial, once again causing the same curiously strong gravity field. One of the officials was leaning with his hand on the bench top close to the setup when I activated the electricity, and I didn't think to tell him he needed to move away.

Once activated, he couldn't pull his hand away from the activated sample quickly enough, causing his wrist to dislocate and his skin to rip open. I heard him yelling for a second or two before I shut off the power, but it was already too late. An alarming amount of blood was on the bench top and floor after the device was de-energized.

The Defense official was rushed to the hospital, where the triage doctor wasn't sure if he would regain full mobility of his hand, as one of his wrist bones was completely missing. The doctor also noted that the official was severely anemic due to blood loss.

Unfortunately, the near-death experience today proved that the electrically-charged metamaterial produces its own gravitational field. The mechanism is unknown, and I intend for it to stay that way. Regardless of whether the Cornerian Defense System or Beltino Toad wants me to continue this project, I am hereby permanently suspending all of my research on this subject. I will not publish any reports or file for any patents, and I will vehemently discourage any attempts at weaponization of this device.

* * *

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-150-8

Even though I have done what I can in discouraging further research on the metamaterials and their applications with gravity fields, I heard in passing today that someone outside of the Cornerian Defense System had gained access to the research I was conducting. The only places I had disclosed this research were in this particular notebook and the presentation for the CDS. Although gossip can easily be exaggerated, I also heard that whoever "let slip" this topic was paid a large sum of money. If true, I think one of the CDS officials was in the pocket of whoever wanted to use what I have been trying to stop. I can only hope that the rumors are not true.

* * *

Notebook #: 478-8-141-M

Name: Geoffrey Grey

Log Title: Low-Power Cloaking Devices from Metamaterials Impregnated with Copper Wire

Recording method: Vocal

Date: 04-150-8 (second entry for the day)

Beltino Toad confirmed what I had been hearing for most of the morning. It is indeed true that someone outside of the CDS has gained access to this research. Furthermore, they also have access to the raw materials I was using, including the monomer used to make the metamaterial. Since it is commercially available, I contacted as many suppliers as I could to warn them that someone might be purchasing a large amount of the monomer for weaponization. I feel as if I have taken every preventative measure possible to keep from turning this metamaterial into a weapon of mass destruction, and yet, a corrupt politician or bureaucrat has simply brushed me off like an irritating fly buzzing around.

If anyone reads these entries, I have no knowledge of who is using my research illicitly. However, I will cooperate fully with any authorities to help stop this potential threat.


	10. Chapter 9

"_Toward_ Sargasso," Fox repeated in slight disbelief. "And what will we accomplish moving the Great Fox in that direction?"

"I just thought it would be harder for hostiles to target the Great Fox if it were further from Aquas. But we can't simply leave it here in orbit."

"Ben's got a point," Slippy said. "We leave the Great Fox here, and it'll b-be scrap metal by the time we get back. But I'm n-not sure it has the fuel reserves to stop midway, basically in the middle of nowhere."

"How about a wider orbit?" Ben asked. "Helps conserve fuel, and the Great Fox is harder to reach."

"I like the idea," Falco said, finally breaking his silence. "And don't let anyone know about it. Peppy had already relayed the original orbit to Aquas, and _that's_ what is compromised."

"Any objections?" Fox asked.

"No," both Slippy and Ben said at the same time.

"All right," Fox said with a deep breath. "ROB, bring the Great Fox out to a higher orbit. Let's double what was originally planned. And make sure you're outside of geosynchronous orbit."

Originally, the plan was to leave the Great Fox in orbit fairly close to Aquas, thanks to the military base that was in contact with Corneria. But after the skirmish, Fox knew inside geosynchronous orbit was suicide for ROB. And _at_ G.O. was even worse. Because the Great Fox would have been essentially locked over one location on Aquas. It would have made for very easy tracking, and it didn't matter if it was friend or foe.

A couple of seconds later, a reply in ROB's trademark monotone sounded in their headsets. "Affirmative." The Star Fox team watched from their Arwings as the engines began glowing a vibrant yellow, and the Great Fox slowly edged its way to a higher orbit around Aquas.

"We've got a few hours to reach Sargasso. Nobody lose focus," Fox warned.

"We're right behind you," Falco replied.

The four Arwings turned and began heading toward Sargasso.

* * *

After about two hours of staring at a black sky painted with bright dots, Ben realized how difficult space travel really was. And how difficult it was for him to keep focused. Without a threat in front of you, it was easy to simply drift off to sleep. Sure, there was an autopilot feature on the Arwings, and it was engaged, but an assault could happen from seemingly out of nowhere. Space was that big. You set a course, follow it, and hope to get there within a reasonable time.

To help himself keep focused, Ben concentrated on his breathing. It was a challenge for him not to make it too loud, or else Fox, Falco or Slippy would have guessed he was sleeping. He was working into a nice rhythm, feeling his senses reawakening after that jolt with the Venomian skirmish at Aquas.

_Dogfights are the easy part,_ he thought. How someone could stay awake in such a boredom-inducing environment was beyond him. Not even the Cornerian military trained for this.

"Kid, you're losing your place in the formation," Falco chided. "We've still got about thirty minutes to go."

Ben grunted in mild surprise as he heard Falco's voice crackle over the headset. "Got it," he replied, pulling the yoke to his left to get back into formation. It took a lot more effort to move his Arwing back toward the rest of the Star Fox team, almost like he was piloting in air again.

_Something's not right,_ he thought. Perhaps whatever it was would simply go away before too long.

Without warning, the console in front of Ben chirped at him, bringing his attention to the radar screen. A blip was approaching quickly from behind his Arwing and from the left. Ben instinctively tugged on the yoke to bring his Arwing further left, but the object was moving too quickly for him to get out of the way. In a last-ditch attempt at getting out of the path, Ben slammed his feet down onto the G-diffuser pedals and fired his thrusters. He felt the familiar jolt of sudden acceleration, but a second later, the object had caught up to him anyway.

His last thought before impact was _missile_.

There was no explosion. The object collided with the back of Ben's Arwing from slightly underneath, taking out his bottom two G-diffusers. He grunted in shock as the Arwing lurched forward and nosed down suddenly.

"I'M HIT!" Ben shouted into his headset. His feet were glued to the floor with the G-diffuser pedals, but the lack of two of the diffusers made his ride extremely rough. Just like in the dogfighting drills.

Ben's Arwing pitched forward from the impact just as Fox's voice rang out through his headset.

"Get back on track, kid! Fifteen degrees upward, and you got it."

Ben pulled the yoke upward in an attempt to regain control, but he felt the blood draining slowly from his head.

"I can't! Status screen shows two G-diffusers offline!"

"Ben, radar is showing a d-debris cloud just b-below your position," Slippy shouted. "You've gotta figure out a way to get out of there!"

Ben groaned as he willed himself to pull back on the yoke. Even if he passed out, he thought he might be able to make it. From inside the cockpit, he heard the two working G-diffusers straining in overdrive before they went silent. Immediately after, a sudden jolt rocked through Ben's Arwing as he was knocked nearly senseless from the sudden onset of actual g-forces. His status screen chirped again, showing all four of his G-diffusers were offline.

"All G-diffusers offline!" Ben quickly shouted into his headset.

He heard either Fox or Falco say something into the headset, but he wasn't listening. Ben was completely focused on getting away from the debris cloud, because there probably was another chunk of something ready to tear straight through his Arwing.

Ben pulled the yoke further toward him in an effort to move away from the debris. It didn't take long for him to feel the discomfort of acceleration as he was pushed backward into his seat. It was hard to move his arms, and even breathing was a chore.

On the edge of blackness, he lost most of his remaining strength, and his arms slowly relaxed, nosing the Arwing down. It didn't take long for him to regain most of his thoughts as his blood slowly reentered his head, but the radar screen in front of him still showed the exact debris cloud Slippy mentioned earlier, the blips seeming to merge with each other.

In this emergency, the first thought that entered Ben's mind was, _What would cause a debris cloud in the middle of nowhere?_

It had to be something with some kind of gravitational attraction. _I wonder if I can use that to my advantage,_ he thought. Instead of fighting the gravity, perhaps he could use it to accelerate himself out of its orbit.

"Let's try something crazy," he mumbled into his headset. And without warning the rest of the Star Fox team, he continued nosing the Arwing down slightly, gunning the thrusters. Predictably, he was shoved backward into his seat, but the g-forces were much more tolerable. He was being pushed back into his seat, not down.

"No, kid! The _other_ way!" Falco shouted.

Fox noticed what Ben was onto after a few seconds. "Falco, his G-diffusers are offline!" He turned his attention to Ben. "All right, kid! Now slowly edge your way out!"

"I _knew_ we got the right pilot," Falco said with a grin, trying to hide his confusion from a few seconds ago.

"What is c-causing a d-debris cloud here!?" Slippy shouted into his headset.

Ben had made about a quarter of a circle with the debris cloud when he felt the intense g-forces from acceleration slowly fade. He knew he was moving away from the source of the cloud as he watched his radar screen slowly clear itself of blips.

"Reduce speed," Fox instructed his wingmates. "We're gonna wait for the kid to catch up to us."

Instead of banking away from the debris cloud, Ben simply rode the boost in speed around the source to catch up to Fox and company. He wasn't sure if he could perform a U-turn with his Arwing in this shape.

"Once we dock at Sargasso, I'll need help fixing the Arwing," Ben said into his headset. And waited.

"Kid, you're…" was the reply. Ben thought it might have been Fox, but the voice was too garbled to actually tell who it was. He only knew his message wasn't getting to his wingmates. Luckily, it wouldn't take long for him to reconvene with them anyway.

As he completed his orbit, Ben noticed a diffuse flash of light blue, followed by the image sharpening into three distinct Arwings at a distance. Like it was a mirage that somehow became real.

"Let's not go through that again," he suggested as he approached the other three members of Star Fox.

"What were you asking about a few seconds ago?" Fox asked.

"Oh. The Arwing's G-diffusers need to be repaired," Ben replied after a short second of thinking.

"If you can't make it to Sargasso, you'll need to head back to the Great Fox," Falco said.

"I can fly just fine," Ben clarified. "It's just that I'm at a disadvantage in a dogfight."

"D'you wanna chance it?" Falco asked. He was referring to Ben continuing to Sargasso without a completely functional Arwing.

"I didn't sign up for this just to go back home," Ben said without missing a beat.

"Onward, then," Fox said, grinning. As Ben caught up to the other three pilots, they continued their trek toward the Sargasso Station.

For what it was worth, Ben thought it was easier to stay awake now that part of his Arwing wasn't functioning. He had something to distract himself with, rather than just staring out into an empty expanse of space. It was an oddly peaceful feeling, not having to talk with anyone, not having to be bothered by some demand or other. The only sound he heard was the constant hum of the Arwing's engines and his own breathing.

The four Arwing pilots had to approach their top speed a lot more slowly, now that Ben's Arwing had no G-diffusers left. It was uncomfortable for him at about three g's, but that was it. No threat of passing out.

"Estimated t-time for visual confirmation is now two hours," Slippy informed the other three pilots.

* * *

"Is that it?" Ben asked.

Just barely visible in the blackness of space was a structure that didn't resemble any kind of star, planet or asteroid. As the four Arwings drew closer, the structure slowly morphed from a small, nondescript point into something that more resembled a space station.

"That would be it," Falco said.

"Wolf's hired guns usually keep a close radius," Fox explained. "Be aware of any blips on your radar screen."

"Do we let them know we're here?" Ben asked.

"No," Fox said, answering the question for the entire team. "What you saw at Aquas would be the same problem here if we announced ourselves. We get in, assess the situation, and get out."

"Reducing speed," Slippy announced into his headset.

"Copy."

Ben felt a gentle nudge forward as he eased off the throttles. Already, he missed the convenience of having G-diffusers at his disposal.

Everything was silent in Ben's cockpit, except for the whine of the engines. He was expecting an ambush any moment, which seemed to make his heart beat audible as well.

"Eyes open. This is about the distance for an attack," Fox said after a few moments of silence.

The four Arwings continued toward the now-gigantic station looming in front of them. Two asteroids were visible in the far background as small rocks. Ben's radar showed no blips, except for the massive station directly ahead.

"ET…A f-five…minutes," Slippy said haltingly.

Ben kept quiet, hearing the soft whine of his Arwing's engines. His heart was still pounding.

As the details of the station revealed themselves, Fox said, "Docking ports are facing us, about midway up the structure. There are four of them. Kid, you're first because your Arwing won't work in a dogfight."

"Copy," Ben radioed back. He noticed all four of the docking ports were open, almost as if Wolf and his crew were ready for them. Semi-randomly, he chose the port on the right, touching down on the station's platform. The bay door automatically closed behind his Arwing once it made contact with the station.

Red lights lazily flashed, indicating the chamber was pressurizing. Over the course of about three minutes, sound began filtering into Ben's cockpit as a distinct whirring noise. Probably the vents charging the bay with air.

Suddenly, the red lights flashed green and stayed that way. Ben opened his canopy glass, unbuckled himself and slowly crept down onto the station's surface. He unlatched the snap for his blaster, ready to whip it out in case someone attacked.

He explored the hangar, wondering how to open the inner bay doors from the outside. He was moving toward the doors when they began cranking open. A seam of light appeared halfway between the floor and the ceiling and spread vertically as the doors opened. Instinctively, Ben strode toward a corner, anticipating an ambush.

But the area around the hangars appeared to be deserted. No Wolfens, unless there were more bays scattered around the station. No representative from Star Wolf or any mercenaries for that matter.

Ben cautiously stepped into the large, open area of the Sargasso station, noticing Slippy was to his left. The bay doors for the other two hangars were just barely beginning to open.

Ben acknowledged Slippy with a quick nod and turned his attention back into the open area.

And without warning, a bright flash of light appeared with a noise that sounded somewhat like a blaster shot. Slippy grunted in shock and stumbled backwards, his eyes unfocused and his legs just barely under his control. His back crashed into the wall behind him, and he slumped to the floor, unmoving.


	11. Chapter 10

"What the hell happened!?" Fox shouted as the bay doors in front of him finished opening. He sprinted over toward Ben, who was in as much shock as him and Falco.

"I…I don't know…" Ben stammered. "That shot just came out of nowhere."

Fox and Falco knelt near Slippy just as another shot from somewhere within the station rang out. By sheer luck, it collided with the wall where Fox's head had been just a second ago. Fox and Falco reflexively ducked away from the blast, while Ben jumped backward.

"Elevated position," Falco mumbled, looking for the shot's origin. He quickly wrapped Slippy's limp arm around his shoulder and dragged him behind a nearby pillar. The station had several of these pillars dotting the periphery of the main area, serving as routing for the thousands of electrical wires needed to keep this place inhabitable.

His legs wanting to pull him in ten different directions, Ben finally decided to dash behind an unoccupied pillar. Fox wasn't far behind him.

"Is he alive?" Fox whispered across the way toward Falco.

Falco looked at the other two Star Fox team members and nodded with a deep breath. "Barely." He held a button down on his radio collar and began dictating a message for transmission to Peppy. "This is Falco. Slippy is seriously injured. We're gonna finish what we need to with Sargasso quickly and bring Slippy back for medical help. Falco out."

Twenty-two minutes to wait for an answer. Just an answer. That answer wouldn't bring help. It wouldn't bring painkillers or clotting agents. It would only bring words.

Ben watched as Falco peered around the pillar, hoping to catch a glimpse of the shooter's face. His eyes scanned the far wall of the open area, looking up and down as he unholstered his blaster.

Another shot rang out, once again seemingly from nowhere. Falco saw the brief charge before the plasma bolt was unleashed, ducking behind the pillar once again. The shot grazed the pillar centimeters away from Falco's head before slamming into the wall and leaving another scorch mark.

"Turret," Falco whispered to Fox and Ben. He held up two fingers and whispered, "Middle wall, second floor."

Fox nodded. Ben continued staring at Falco, trying to process the information.

_Turret_, Ben thought. That meant it was going to fire at specific intervals as long as a valid target was in range. It also explained why the first shot didn't quite sound like a standard blaster that he was used to.

"Kid, stop what you're doing," Fox whispered urgently.

Ben stopped moving, wondering what Fox was talking about when he realized his head was about to become a target for the turret. He was inches from revealing his face from behind the pillar and didn't even know it.

Ben slowly pressed his back against the pillar, trying to glue himself to it so he wouldn't get caught not paying attention again. He was lucky Fox was paying attention for him. He watched as Fox eased toward the edge of the pillar and then quickly pulled back. A second later, another shot rang out from the turret. It exploded against the wall in front of Ben, leaving a scorch mark.

Fox quickly jumped out from behind the pillar, his blaster drawn, and pulled the trigger. This shot was much higher in pitch as it left Fox's blaster. He immediately dove back behind the pillar as a small explosion rang out across the empty area between the pillars and turret. Falco snuck a peek from behind his pillar, looked at Fox, and gave a small fist pump. Target destroyed.

"There's probably another turret nearby as a backup," Fox mused. He slowly moved out from behind the pillar, but after about five very tense seconds, it didn't seem there was another turret.

Fox slithered over to Falco and Slippy to assess the damage. Slippy had been hit on his right side, but his right arm had absorbed most of the blast. Had it been a direct hit to his ribcage, he would have definitely been killed. Slippy's eyes were open but glassy, unable to focus on anything and unresponsive to Fox and Falco's movements. His arm was bleeding profusely from just above his elbow, while his ribcage looked like it had been dented. Underneath the gore, the other three Star Fox members noticed Slippy's upper arm was shattered. Fragments of bone were peppering the large wound, and his right arm looked like it was hanging by a few muscle fibers. Fox, Falco and Ben weren't doctors, but all three of them looked at the gaping hole with the exact same thought. _Amputation._

"His pulse is still there," Falco said, preempting Fox from checking.

"What do we do now?" Ben asked. He had been trained well by the Cornerian military, but this situation was far beyond what he had learned. Almost no medical supplies, hostile territory, no way to get a Medivac arranged.

Falco answered with his actions. He whipped off his belt and wrapped it around Slippy's upper arm. Cinched it to create a makeshift tourniquet. He removed his flight jacket and packed it around Slippy's arm to help slow the bleeding. Most of the jacket went between Slippy's arm and ribcage. He was careful to make sure Slippy's ribcage had minimal weight on it. Too much, and his ribs would continue to break. With such a grave injury, it brought the possibility of a collapsed lung, if it hadn't happened already.

The sound of footsteps alerted Ben. He was already on-edge from the turret, so he glanced backwards to make sure it wasn't a threat. He noticed it was an ape, not unlike the Venomian pilot he had "mercifully" killed during that brief skirmish above Aquas. He watched impassively as the ape grinned in anticipation, pulled a knife from his belt and got ready to plunge downward into Ben's neck.

_You're dead,_ Ben thought.

Ben's training with the Cornerian military quickly kicked in. He waited until the ape lunged into a vertical stabbing motion before rolling to his right with a grunt. Ben's right heel hooked into the ape's thigh, while his left foot swept through the ape's calf. He used his right hand to grab the ape's forearm and rolled toward his front. Ben heard and felt the ape's knee snap in two. The ape screamed in pain as Ben continued turning his hips over to throw him.

At that moment, Fox and Falco jumped up, hearing the ape's knee break, followed by a pained shout. They watched in surprise as the ape went airborne for a brief second before crashing down on the right side of his head. The knife in his right hand slipped free and landed a few inches away from Ben's left shoulder.

There was no final gasp or shudder as the ape hit the ground. Ben continued his roll, ending with his right knee buried into the bottom of the ape's ribcage. He was ready to finish the ape off, but realized he was already dead. The collision with the floor had killed him.

Just to make sure, Ben got up by pushing his right fist into the ape's throat, leaning all of his weight onto his fist before standing. No pulse, and there was no response to all of Ben's weight crushing the ape's throat.

Both Fox and Falco stared open-mouthed at what their seemingly green recruit had just done. They continued staring at the ape as Ben reached down to grab the knife on the floor and stow it in his belt. While killing an enemy that quickly was nothing new, the brutal display Ben had just put on definitely surprised them. It almost seemed against his nature to even think about inflicting that kind of carnage on someone.

Ben took a deep breath as he looked at the ape one last time, his demeanor changing. "I'm…I'm sorry," he whispered to no one in particular.

Fox, who was still kneeling near Slippy, looked up at him curiously for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts. "You don't need to apologize to anyone, kid," he said after a silence.

"I…I just feel horrible when I have to do something like this. I wish I coulda killed him from an Arwing. Not that it would make what I've done any more acceptable. But from a plane, I wouldn't have to watch him die."

"What would have happened if you didn't fight back?" Falco asked rhetorically.

"I'd be dead," Ben whispered. He paused. "I just…I just don't wanna become some kind of…you know…killing machine."

"You won't," Fox said definitively. "I wasn't too thrilled about what I had to do in getting Sauria back together. I can't even tell you how many SharpClaws I killed there, but I never shut my mind off during fights like that. To me, it felt like I was fighting in self-defense the entire time. If I _don't_ defend myself, then Sauria explodes and threatens every other planet in the Lylat System with extinction."

"So you're saying I need a goal?" Ben clarified.

"If it helps keep you focused, then yes," Fox said. "And if you can't come up with one now, don't worry about it."

"I just wanna pay my dad another visit. That's all," Ben said.

"Well, let's do what we need to here so you can get back to Corneria. Then you can see your dad again," Fox answered. Ben nodded in understanding.

"Any volunteers for keeping an eye on Slippy?" Falco asked.

Ben and Fox looked at each other. After an awkward silence, Ben stepped toward Falco and said, "I'll do it."

"Okay. You've got a radio collar, so use it if trouble finds you."

Ben nodded and sat down on the floor. Across from Slippy. And as far as he could get from the dead Venomian ape while still staying hidden.

He heard the mechanical white noise of the station. The hum of the artificial gravity generator. The faint high-pitched buzz of the fluorescent lights, bathing everything in a cold light. But no voices and no footsteps. He sighed, glancing at Slippy every now and then. There wasn't much progress, although Slippy's expression had turned from frozen shock into a flat affect. Ben was worried about what would happen when Slippy awoke. _If_ he awoke. His first response would be panic once he realized most of his right arm had been blasted apart.

Ben wondered if there was a better way to perform triage. His dad certainly knew how; he had treated Fox's concussion without so much as a second thought. But concussions were pretty much standard fare, even though they were no laughing matter. There was a drug available that helped speed recovery by reducing the swelling in the brain. But there wasn't a drug available that could miraculously fix an arm.

Ben sighed, wondering how long Slippy had until the tourniquet started becoming counterproductive. After a certain amount of time, a tourniquet prevents efficient blood circulation to a wounded limb, and the blood pools. The limb begins to rot from the inside out, which is next-to-impossible to stop, even with all the advances in medicine. Amputation was guaranteed if Slippy went past that point.

But how would you prevent that from happening in the first place? Half of Slippy's upper arm was blown open. Blood circulation was already inefficient. Ben glanced at the jacket wrapping around Slippy's arm and noticed the outside was still mostly off-white. There was a small amount of crimson dripping out of the end, but overall, it seemed Falco knew what he was doing.

For a fleeting moment, Ben asked himself whether he could amputate Slippy's arm on his own. Just in case the situation turned even more dire than it already was. He grimaced, forcing that thought out of his head. There was no way he was gonna try that.

From somewhere on his left side, a blaster shot rang out and impacted the ape's corpse Ben had all but forgotten about. The ape's body flopped onto its back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Time to go," Ben mumbled. He looped his arm underneath Slippy's left side and dragged him behind the pillar, hoping to buy just enough time to gather his thoughts. Ben heaved a sigh of relief when he heard Slippy grunt in pain. He was returning to the world of the living, although now probably wasn't the best time for that to happen. Ben situated Slippy with his back against the pillar, helping him into a sitting position.

From his left, a voice commanded, "Stand up." It definitely sounded gruff, like you would expect from a stereotypically hardened criminal.

Instinctively, Ben reached for his blaster, which was inconveniently on his left side.

"Leave the gun alone."

There was no more clarification given to the command. It was simple, succinct and it had a tone of voice that told Ben he'd die if he moved any further with his gun.

Slowly, Ben stood with his hands away from his sides, facing the source of the voice. From about three meters away, he was looking at a heavily-built grey wolf with what looked like a combination of scouter and eye patch covering his left eye. The wolf's right eye burned into Ben's vision like a laser. The wolf was garbed in a dark jumpsuit and held a blaster, pointed directly at Ben's forehead.

He gulped when he realized who he was staring at.

Wolf O'Donnell. Leader of Star Wolf.

Somehow, Ben had always thought that if he ever met Wolf face-to-face, he'd be perfectly calm and collected. But now that he was actually here, staring at Wolf, he felt small and insignificant. Like Wolf could end his life at any moment, even if it was on a whim.

"Fox and Falco. Where are they?" Wolf asked using the same tone of voice as when he warned Ben about his blaster.

Ben was silent. Not because he was being defiant. It was because he was scared out of his wits.

"Where are they?" Wolf finally repeated after a long moment.

Slowly, Ben's thoughts cleared. He realized his eyes were wide in terror, and his palms were sweating. "I'm…I'm…" He blinked, suddenly losing any vestige of focus he might have had.

Wolf simply planted his right foot backwards, lowered his head slightly and took aim with his blaster.

"I'm not sure," Ben managed to whisper. All of his training, all of his self-control was completely gone in an instant. Because Wolf knew exactly how to manipulate. He knew how to catch someone off-guard or keep them uncomfortable.

"They're here," Wolf said without moving. He didn't say anything else, but his tone told Ben he needed to explain everything he knew, unless he wanted to die within the next five seconds.

"D-distress signal," Ben stammered. It was all he could think of.

"What about it?"

"I…I d-don't know," Ben said.

"Don't tell me that again," Wolf said without missing a beat. He adjusted his grip slightly on his blaster, showing Ben his right finger was on the trigger.

"We…we w-were told…to, uh, check out what was…causing the d-distress beacon," Ben managed.

"That's it?" Wolf asked, not moving.

Ben simply nodded.

At that moment Slippy groaned in pain, trying to adjust his position. Ben glanced toward him, taking his eyes off of Wolf.

"Let me see your eyes, bear," Wolf said impassively. Ben quickly returned his gaze toward Wolf. He watched as Wolf flicked his blaster slightly toward Slippy. "Turret?"

Ben nodded. His composure was returning slowly, although he was shocked at how easily Wolf manipulated him into feeling scared. Wolf asking about the turret was the first hint of him betraying any emotion whatsoever.

"Why are you here?" Wolf asked, returning to his callous demeanor.

Ben's heart leapt slightly, but the shock didn't get him in a strangle hold like a few moments earlier.

"Help Fox and Falco investigate the-," Ben started.

"It's hacked," Wolf interrupted, cutting him off.

"Hacked?"

"Are you deaf?" Wolf asked impatiently.

Ben stood there in shock again, realizing Wolf's question was also the answer to his question.

Before Ben could say anything, Slippy groaned again, this time with more vigor. His adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the pain from having his arm blown open was taking over his mind.

Wolf glanced for a moment at Slippy, taking his attention off of Ben.

Ben's hand quickly jumped to his radio collar and opened the line with Fox and Falco. Before he could say anything into the collar, Wolf's right eye went wide as he brought his attention back to Ben. He squeezed the trigger on his blaster, but Ben saw it coming and ducked.

"Wolf!" he shouted as he hit the ground. Ben made sure not to pull his blaster out because Wolf probably wouldn't hesitate to shoot first.

Wolf followed Ben as he came to rest on the ground, his blaster still aimed at Ben's face.

"Smart kid," he mused, smirking ever so slightly.

In Ben's earpiece, Falco's voice crackled over the line. "On our way!"

"Tell me who hacked your communications, and we'll leave," Ben said, meeting Wolf's intense stare.

"You think it's gonna be that easy," Wolf started. Ben just stared at him blankly, wondering what he was talking about. "I'll tell you who hacked the comm link. Geoffrey Grey." Ben didn't react. That name didn't connect with anyone he knew. "But you're not leaving any time soon."

"What?" Ben asked, not comprehending what Wolf was saying.

Wolf flicked his head slightly, looking past Ben toward the hangars where the Arwings had docked. The bay doors leading into the station were still open. As soon as Ben's attention turned toward the hangars, he noticed each Arwing's canopy was shattered. Technically, they were still flyable. In air. Not in space.

"Now tell me how you're going to leave," Wolf said daringly as he took aim again with his blaster.


	12. Chapter 11

_I never heard anything. The Arwings are ten meters away, and I heard nothing,_ Ben thought. Wolf had kept his attention so well that he was never distracted by whoever it was smashing into the canopy glass of the Arwings. It was actually remarkable that he hadn't noticed, because the glass was tempered. It could handle a lot more stress before breaking, which would have made breaking the canopies louder.

"I…I…" Ben stammered, making him look even more ridiculous than he had been already. "L-look. Somehow, we've gotta get Slippy-"

"We?" Wolf interrupted. He had relaxed his aim slightly, but his blaster was still out. His finger was still on the trigger.

"We've gotta get Slippy medical help," Ben said defiantly, ignoring Wolf's question.

"What if I kill him?"

"If he dies, you die," Ben stated. It wasn't hard to see his threat was mostly empty. Ben was still lying on his left side, his blaster between his hip and the ground.

"Don't. Get. Cocky," Wolf said menacingly. He refocused his aim at Ben's forehead.

"We've got a visual on Wolf and Leon," Fox said through his radio collar. Ben couldn't hide the simultaneous expressions of relief and realization in his eyes as soon as he heard Fox's voice.

Ben glanced in the direction Fox and Falco had gone in and saw two small figures approaching. Wolf nodded at him, seemingly at random. All of a sudden, Ben's world went blurry, the colors of the station melting together as a splitting headache wracked him in pain. He tried to scream, but mercifully passed out.

A considerable distance from Wolf, Ben and Leon, Fox immediately stopped himself and whispered, "Take cover. They know we're coming." Both of them moved to put something between themselves and Wolf. Fox noticed the small glance from Ben's head movement, and that was all it took to blow their cover. You don't become one of the most feared criminals in the entire Lylat System by ignoring subtle cues.

Just to make sure, Wolf aimed his blaster at where Ben had glanced and fired off three rapid shots.

Wolf quickly motioned his head backwards and to his right, telling his trusted chameleon friend to get the bear out of here. Leon grinned silently, knowing exactly where to take the rookie Star Fox member. He crouched and hefted Ben's weight over his back and shoulders. Began walking away from Slippy as Wolf followed slightly behind. Wolf kept his gaze in the direction Ben had so conveniently pointed out to him, but Fox and Falco were nowhere to be seen.

Fox peered out from behind his cover, which was another pillar inside the station. "They're gone," he whispered to Falco. "If he wouldn't have _looked_ at us, we coulda saved him!" He paused. "This is why I can't have some rookie around! I told Peppy I wasn't gonna babysit anyone, and now I'm the one responsible for his capture!" Fox smacked the pillar in front of him with his fist. He winced from the pain. Hoped nothing was broken in his hand.

"GET DOWN!" Falco shouted. He dove at Fox's waist, tackling him as a plasma bolt ripped into the pillar behind where Fox was standing. The blast was strong enough to tear into the pillar and expose the thousands of wires and cables. Two of them were frayed by the blast, raining a stream of yellow sparks onto Falco's jumpsuit.

Fox had reacted quickly enough to Falco's tackle to keep his head from slamming into the floor. He glanced at the newly-formed hole in the pillar and followed a line backwards with his eyes to a point across the station about three levels above their location.

"Shit," Fox mumbled. With both him and Falco lying prone, they were perfect targets for whatever was above them. To buy him and Falco a little more time, he wrenched his blaster out from his belt and fired on the line he was looking. Two shots. Three. Four. Five.

"You okay?" Falco asked from on top of his legs.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine." He paused. "High-powered cannon on that shot. Probably a sniper," Falco said, thinking out loud.

"Maybe I got us a little more time," Fox said, standing and heading away from their original path.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not staying in that sniper's line of fire! We'll get to the kid and Slippy by getting to the lower level of the station this way and circling around." Fox pointed to the incline leading to the other side of the station, away from Slippy's position.

"You know, I really wanted to take him out," Falco mused as they reached the lowest level of the Sargasso Station.

"The sniper?" Fox asked.

"Yeah."

They turned the corner and strode back toward where they thought Slippy was. Ben must have moved him around the pillar, but he probably didn't go far. The lifeless ape was still there, so Wolf didn't do anything about him. It stood to reason that Wolf had simply left Slippy to die where he was.

Sure enough, as they rounded the pillar near the Arwings, Slippy was sitting with his back leaning against the pillar, drifting in and out of consciousness. His eyes were slightly glazed, able to focus for roughly two seconds at a time. His skin had lost some of its color.

"He's anemic," Falco said quietly. Slippy groaned, trying to move slightly, then his body decided it wasn't worth the effort as he lapsed back into a comatose state.

"I think one of us should take Slippy back to the Great Fox. We have a medical bay there that can at least do basic triage."

"I'll get him back to the Great…" Falco started, but cut himself off.

"The Great Fox?"

Falco was staring in the direction of the docking bays, his beak slightly open. "Who the hell smashed the canopy glass? On all four of our Arwings?"

Fox immediately looked at the bays holding the Arwings. His stomach dropped when he saw all four of their canopies smashed in the exact same way. He strode over to the ape's corpse and kicked it with a blood-chilling shout. His foot connected with the ape's ribcage, snapping several bones and causing the corpse to flip onto its other side. "THIS WAS A FUCKING TRAP!"

Somehow, Falco was thinking ahead as he acknowledged Fox's tantrum. The only way for them to leave the station was using a Wolfen. And he wasn't sure where they were hangared. Or if there were any left at the station. He knew Wolf was nearby. He and Leon had dragged Ben somewhere on the station. And if it involved Leon, Falco knew they needed to get to Ben quickly. Leon had a record of being able to torture individuals to complete insanity within a very short time.

As Fox was looking around for a living enemy to kick the living daylights out of, Falco heard a door slam on the other side of the station. Same level, maybe fifty meters away. Instinctively, he glanced in that direction, and his eyes focused on a single metal sliding pane. Compared to the soft red of the station walls, its off-white color certainly stood out. The station was dotted with these doors, but only the residents of Sargasso actually knew where they went to. And what they were used for. Except for maybe one entrance. The one Falco was glaring at.

"Fox, I can get you some live targets," he said half-sarcastically.

"Good," Fox said curtly. And stormed over to Falco, who was already walking toward the metal door.

It was predictably locked from the inside. Probably a safe room converted in purpose and function into an interrogation room. Fox pushed his way past Falco and yanked at the door. It stayed closed.

He gave an irate groan as he drew his blaster and stepped backwards to about three meters from the door. Without telling Falco to get out of the way, Fox began shooting at the door where he thought the lock would be. Left side, about halfway from the floor to the top of the door frame.

From inside, two muffled voices could be heard. One of them sounded like Wolf, who was _exactly_ the person Fox wanted to see at this moment. The other had a higher-pitched, almost maniacal rasp. Leon.

"Put the bear in front," Wolf instructed his cohort.

Falco's eyes went wide as he realized what was going to happen. Fox was in one of his unstoppable mindsets, not caring about what would happen to him or anyone else. There was no concern for his well-being. No concern for Ben just on the other side of the door. All Fox wanted was to exact revenge on Wolf.

Falco had seen this expression on Fox's face a few times before, but it didn't make him any better at stopping his friend from impending self-destruction. Twice, he remembered somehow pulling Fox away from a manic state. One time involved Wolf. The other involved Andross.

"Fox! Stop!" Falco shouted. No response. Only more plasma fired at the door, each shot a little closer to Fox's target.

Falco groaned under his breath and sprang toward Fox's waist for the second time. Fox didn't see him coming until his hip collided with the station floor. Falco chased up Fox's ribcage in an effort to keep him from hitting his head on the floor, extending his arm just before the left side of Fox's face met the metallic surface. Fox's head bounced slightly off of Falco's right arm, snapping one of the bones just below his wrist.

Like he had received a brutal electric shock, Falco jerked his arm out from underneath Fox's head with a yell and curled into a ball, seemingly protecting his forearm from any more attacks. His wrist was bent inward at nearly a ninety-degree angle.

Fox lay on the ground in shock as the fog of his rage cleared over about thirty seconds. The first thing he saw was Falco crouching with a pained grimace, holding his right arm against his chest. Every few seconds, Fox heard him gasp in pain as a small amount of saliva trickled out of his beak. He noticed Falco's right wrist bent at a sickening angle. As Fox's mind started working again, he wondered why Falco had broken his wrist. Moreover, Fox wondered why he was lying on the ground with a dull pain in the left side of his head. He glanced at the door behind himself and saw most of the left side was melted from plasma shots. Fox took a deep breath as he noticed two or three well-placed shots would have opened the door for him. In his rage, he had taken at least fifteen shots, and none of them was anywhere near granting him access to Wolf, Leon and Ben.

Fox glanced at Falco again and connected the dots on how he had ended up on the floor with a nagging headache. He was the one responsible for Falco's wrist, even if it was indirectly.

_Shit,_ he thought. The last thing he remembered before ending up on the floor was screaming about how this entire mission was a trap. Just like he had predicted some days earlier. He had lost himself in rage, and Falco paid the price for it trying to stop him from getting himself killed.

_I bet Wolf wanted Falco just to let me go,_ Fox thought sarcastically.

"No! WAIT!" Falco shouted in pain as Fox stood drew his blaster again. He aimed his gun at the door, and fired. The latch holding the door shut split into two pieces.

Fox glanced backwards to find Falco in the line of fire if the door suddenly opened. He nodded to the side, communicating to Falco that he needed to get out of the way. Slowly, Falco stood and hobbled away from the door with a worried look on his face. Fox grabbed the door and yanked, pulling it open.

Predictably, blaster fire rang out into the station, spraying in every direction for a couple of seconds.

"How bad do you wanna die, McClown!?" Leon shouted in his trademark rasp to the open station. Fox stayed with his back glued to the wall, shielding Falco from any attacks from inside. He waited silently, hoping Leon or Wolf would take the bait.

"Your teddy bear doesn't have much longer, McClown," Leon continued. "You gave me way too much time, so I think I'm gonna splice his arm onto that frog over there."

Falco looked up at Fox with a worried expression. With Leon, you could never tell when he was bluffing or when he was sincere in a situation like this. Fox took a deep breath, but kept his gaze steady. He was telling Falco to keep silent. Let Wolf or Leon make the first mistake.

They waited.

No sounds came from within the room on the other side of the wall from Fox and Falco. Admirably, Falco was doing an excellent job of not groaning in pain from his wrist. Fox thought adrenaline had finally kicked in and was acting as a painkiller. But he also knew it would wear off after about an hour. Eventually, someone was going to have to compromise themselves.

"It'd be too bad if I picked the wrong arm," Leon said after a tense few minutes, referring to his so-called plan with Ben. "Bone saw is ready," he said with relish.

Fox immediately looked back at Falco and shook his head. The eye contact he was making told Falco that Fox didn't believe a word of what Leon was saying. A seasoned veteran like Leon would never announce every step of what he was doing. If Leon was actually being sincere about taking Ben's arm off, he would have done it without any warning.

But just to make sure, Fox and Falco listened through the open door. No surgical equipment was switched on. No drill, no bone saw. Just silence.

Fox heard Wolf whisper something to Leon after a few moments. He couldn't make out what was being said, but he heard Wolf's tone, and it wasn't agreeing with Leon's intentions. To Fox, it sounded like Wolf was trying to convince him of something other than torture or slowly letting Ben die.

Leon whispered something back, sounding irritated. In that exchange, Fox could make out one word. Leverage. He decided to stay silent, clinging to the hope that Ben would survive. Fox's interest was piqued after hearing that word.

Fox made out a few other words after turning his attention fully to the hushed conversation between Wolf and Leon. Contract. Objective. Star Fox, which was pretty much a given with Wolf anyway. Janus.

_Janus?_ Fox mouthed to the air in front of himself. He blinked, wondering who or what Janus was. It was certainly a name he had never heard before.

Fox heard Wolf take a deep breath. "McCloud, I wanna talk with you," he announced.

Just as the name Janus took Fox by surprise, another shock hit him when Wolf told him he wanted a conversation. But Fox stayed mum, holding his blaster at an angle downwards, just in case Wolf was bluffing.

"I'm walking out. Don't shoot."

Fox glared across the doorway, waiting for Wolf to jump out and take aim with his blaster. He took aim when he saw Wolf's blaster cross the threshold. Wolf's finger was nowhere near the trigger, and it even looked like he wasn't even planning on using the weapon.

"Don't shoot," Wolf repeated. Fox kept his aim. He watched as the blaster was placed on the floor by Wolf's seemingly disembodied hand.

Slowly, Wolf O'Donnell stepped across the threshold and into Fox's line of fire. His hands were away from his sides in a gesture of surrender.

"He's faking," Falco whispered.

Wolf made eye contact with Fox, trying to show he was actually interested in talking instead of fighting.

This was behavior Fox had never expected in a million years from Wolf. A hardened criminal, seemingly at random surrendering himself? But Fox noticed a few changes in Wolf's appearance from the last time they met face-to-face. Wolf's posture was slightly hunched, like he was either fatigued or injured. And Fox noticed a red blotch in his uncovered eye. He knew there was a name for that kind of medical condition, but Fox was a fighter pilot, not a doctor.

"Gun down," Wolf said.

Fox stayed silent, holding his ground.

"Can we talk?" Wolf asked, quickly giving up on Fox putting his gun away.

"Yes," Fox said, his voice croaking from not saying anything for the last several minutes. Wolf didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't seem to care.

"Can I approach?" Wolf asked.

"No," Fox said decisively, his voice returning.

Wolf stayed where he was. "Someone promised me a fortune if I killed you," he said, slowly breaking the ice.

_Big surprise there,_ Fox thought sarcastically.

"But here's the problem," Wolf continued. "He's got me on a tight leash. If I fail, he kills me. If I dispose of you and your team, he kills me."

"Sounds like a tough spot to be in," Fox observed dryly.

"I need leverage," Wolf said. "That promise was five months ago, and I haven't seen any cash."

"_That's_ what this is about!?" Fox shouted. "Money?" Fox focused his blaster at Wolf's chest, both hands on the gun. "Give me a reason not to blow a hole in your chest," he said threateningly.

"It's the same reason why Krystal isn't here," Wolf said quietly.

"What?"

"It's why Krystal isn't here and why Panther is dead."

Fox thought about that for a split second. Wolf and Leon were the only two Star Wolf members at the Sargasso Station.

"Go on," Fox said after a short silence.

"Some prophet named Janus gave me an offer to kill you."

"You've said that already."

"He wanted you and your team 'out of the way' for his master plan."

"Where is he?" Fox asked, pouncing.

"I don't know."

"What do you know about him?"

"He's got resources. Loads of cash and all the right connections."

"So?"

"The one thing I've heard about his master plan is that he's spending every drop of his resources for what he calls a 'prescribed fire.'"

Fox waited, his blaster still focused on Wolf. His cue for Wolf to explain himself or get shot.

"Panther heard about that, and a 'fixer' got a hold of him not long after."

"At _this_ station?" Fox asked.

Wolf nodded slowly. "I told you, he's got resources."

"What about Krystal?"

"What do you think?" Wolf asked with a scoff. "You don't just _let_ a telepath work against you."

"So you're saying she's probably with this Janus somewhere?"

"That's what I'm saying. I think she was kidnapped, but it happened so quietly that we didn't notice until she was long gone."

At that moment, Fox, Wolf and Falco heard Slippy moan again in half-awake pain from a distance. Fox and Wolf instinctively glanced in that direction.

"The bear told me that you needed to go back to Corneria," Wolf said.

"Yeah, and we ended up stuck here," Fox replied coldly.

"I need leverage. I'll get you back to Corneria so your teammates can get healed."

"How do I know you're not lying?" Fox asked.

"I don't want Janus running my life!" Wolf shouted. "I want him dead! Get this curse away from me!"

"What curse?"

"Look at my eye," Wolf prompted, pointing at his right eye. "This is a hematoma that hasn't gone away for three months. Three months ago, that fixer for Janus appeared out of nowhere, killed Panther and kidnapped Krystal. He did his job better than me or Leon coulda ever dreamed. After he killed Panther, he shot me with some kind of tranquilizer. Ever since, every time I've had an open wound, my blood has a silver tint. I get these mystery headaches where my vision blurs, I can't breathe, and my chest feels like it's going to explode."

Fox looked at Falco. They exchanged blank glances. Neither of them had any idea what was going on, but it was beginning to sound more and more like being stuck at Sargasso with Wolf and Leon wasn't the most dangerous encounter for them.

"All right," Fox mused. "Let's say I believe you. What does the Star Fox team get out of this?"

"Besides going home?" Wolf said flatly.

"Besides going home," Fox repeated.

"Me and Leon will help you stop Janus."

"You don't even know where he is," Fox replied.

"That's why I need you for leverage. Even if he sends a fixer, we can get to him. These aren't perfect killing machines he's hired. They're mercenaries, just like us. We'll get at least one of them to crack," Wolf said with a sideways glance at Leon. Leon just smiled wickedly as he slithered into view.

Fox looked at Falco again. After a pause, Falco nodded almost imperceptibly.

"How are you gonna get us home?" Fox asked. For emphasis, he tilted his head toward the four Arwings with their shattered canopies. He relaxed his aim slightly, pointing his blaster at the floor between him and Wolf.

"Our Wolfens are still hangared here."


	13. Chapter 12

"This is Falco. Slippy is seriously injured. We're gonna finish what we need to with Sargasso quickly and bring Slippy back for medical help. Falco out."

_Take advantage of their training. Injure one teammate, and the others drop everything to help. Fate will take care of itself after that._

Simple plan, really. So simple, the ram who called himself "Janus" grinned slightly. He didn't need to oversee the deaths of all four Star Fox pilots. He didn't even need one of them to die at all. He just needed them somewhere out of the way. But killing them was so much more...rewarding. Media outlets would catch fire from overload with the news of a dead Star Fox team. The attention of every Lylatian would be exactly where he wanted it. Away from him.

He trusted Leon to make sure the Star Fox pilots couldn't leave Sargasso after they got there. And he trusted Wolf to make sure they were dead once they were isolated. And once there was confirmation that the Star Fox team was taken care of, all he had to do was push a button, and twenty-two minutes later a loose end would be tied up.

His fixer did a phenomenal job of getting exactly what he needed. Panther Caroso with his loud, arrogant mouth had nearly compromised him. Wolf could be swayed by the prospect of money. So could Leon. But there was that vixen, Krystal, who nearly destroyed his plan for a "prescribed fire."

Janus had no idea she was a telepath until his fixer brought Krystal back to Corneria. The fixer had specific instructions to dispose of Panther and to appease Wolf and Leon. He had no instructions on what to do about the vixen. In fact, he didn't even know about her until he arrived at Sargasso.

In his haste and a little bit of panic, the fixer shot her with a tranquilizer and brought her back to Corneria after he had finished his job at the space station.

Once Krystal arrived, Janus noticed her eye contact was a little different than everyone else's. Somehow, he felt her thoughts or emotions. If someone was outwardly expressive, it was easy to guess at what they were thinking. But Krystal's eyes went far beyond giving generic hints about her emotions. He felt her fear, wondering what was going to happen to her next. He felt her isolation, although it seemed that scar wasn't very recent. It was very odd to him that he could glean that much information from someone just through eye contact.

Janus and his trusted cohort left Krystal in an empty room. No furniture. Just four walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door cut into one of the walls. The room was soundproof, so they didn't go far to have a hushed conversation on what had happened at Sargasso. When Janus returned to Krystal's holding room, she whispered one word. "Murderer."

Her tone didn't suggest just Panther. To Janus, it seemed Krystal was onto something. She found out about his plan and dropped a hint that she knew what was to come.

His original instinct was to kill her. Silence the vixen to keep her from warning others. That was when she dropped another hint. "Make it fast."

His eyes brightened in realization. _The vixen could read his mind_. If he could somehow enlist her…No, she didn't need to die. A telepath was an incredible asset for him. Somehow, she was going to help him. But the idea of telepath was so fictitious to him that it was difficult to understand _how_ she was going to help. But fate takes care of itself, right?

* * *

"He's dead," Janus's fixer, a dark-feathered hawk, said.

"The Star Fox frog?" Janus asked.

The hawk shook his head slightly. "The taxi driver."

"It took him long enough, didn't it?" Janus asked rhetorically. A playback of the audio recorder from the taxi revealed Fox didn't get any closer to finding out about Janus. So he simply left the taxi driver to die tied to that metal chair. And three days after that interrogation, he finally croaked. He was cremated soon after that.

Janus' underlings soon went to work, scrupulously cleaning any potential trace from that taxi driver. There was blood on the chair from the zip ties. Blood was on the floor, also from the zip ties. And it likely had traces of nanorobotics in it. If investigators got a hold of _that_ evidence, almost every law enforcement official in the Lylat System would converge on the building that housed Janus' team.

"Can you still feel his presence?" Janus asked Krystal after the cleaning had been finished. He was referring to the taxi driver who had died roughly a day ago.

Lying was not one of her fortes. In fact, being a telepath from a world full of other telepaths, the idea of lying was almost nonexistent. But Janus wasn't a telepath. The only signal he had picked up on was that her eye contact was a little…different. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

The vixen put on a façade of concentration, like she was trying to grasp at a tenuous wisp of smoke with her hands. She silently shook her head. Inside, she wondered why Janus needed that information anyway. For someone so calculating, that question was certainly out-of-place. Krystal teased that thought out of his head before it disappeared. He was simply being curious, but he was acting like he needed to know. In other words, he was lying. Just like she was.

In reality, Krystal felt the taxi driver's helplessness as she and Janus left him. And even from his severely weakened state, she felt his descent into despair before consciousness mercifully slipped from him.

Janus turned to the hawk and asked, "When was the last status report from Star Fox?"

"Almost an hour ago," he replied dutifully. "It was the transmission about the frog being injured. Peppy hasn't responded yet."

Satisfied, Janus nodded and switched topics. "Fox McCloud. Do you know where he is?" he asked Krystal. Both of them were standing, but Janus seemed to tower over Krystal, being about twenty centimeters taller than her. He lowered his gaze at her, burning his expression into her eyes.

Krystal glanced at the ram for a brief second, taken slightly aback by his seemingly-intrusive question. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pretending to clear her mind. Having been so disturbed by his glare, Krystal would have needed several minutes to regroup. She was silent for a moment, then opened her eyes again. "No. He isn't nearby," she said quietly.

Janus nodded once, and then grabbed Krystal's left arm. He shoved a scrap of paper into her hand. "Follow these instructions," he said to her. He held her gaze, letting his eyes burn into hers. And walked out with the hawk. She looked at the scrawled note Janus had left. In his nearly-illegible handwriting, it said, "Luna Stone Hotel. Tomorrow night."

Krystal didn't need telepathy to tell her where Fox was anyway. She knew he was at the Sargasso Station. She had overheard the transmission from Falco about Slippy being injured at Sargasso. The hawk's announcement was simply validation. And she knew Janus was eavesdropping on Peppy's communications channel. Fox's voice was audible every now and then.

Because it was routine to her, she took a small peek into Janus' mind and noticed he was preoccupied with the Star Fox team. It was second-nature to Krystal to pull back the proverbial drapes for just a second and look through the window.

Krystal wondered about herself when she took those quick glances into Janus' mind. Or his fixer's mind. She had been taught…no, _cultured_, to only use her telepathy for altruism. For the benefit of others. But because she was withholding information from Janus, she felt like she was committing some kind of crime. Such acts would have been bordering dangerously close to treason had they happened on Cerinia.

But this was no Cerinia. And Janus wasn't here for any reason that remotely looked like altruism. It was such a gray area to her that she was constantly fighting herself, telling herself it was okay for her to peek into their minds like that. If she got out of this predicament, she'd be able to tell someone everything. About Janus. Where he was. What he was intending.

Despite Krystal's intentions, she wasn't sure about one thing. Was she being controlled by Janus? Of course not, at least not in the literal sense. She could escape when he wasn't looking. But the threat of an extremely slow and painful death was enough to deter anyone from defecting. That was made absolutely clear with that taxi driver. And Krystal felt some guilt over his death because she was the one who injected the nanites.

She had only one question on her mind after seeing his lifeless body with silver-tinted blood dripping from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. And it was consuming her. Was she contaminated by nanites?

Nothing struck her as to say she was. Neither Janus nor his fixer gave any signals that suggested they had put nanorobotics into her bloodstream. Brushing their minds, she couldn't find anything that said so. This was where telepathy had its limits. Krystal had to be actively looking for a piece of information inside someone's mind to know what he or she was thinking. It was like listening to a conversation between two individuals, picking up a key word, and zeroing in on the topic around that key word.

But her answer from someone's mind wasn't nearby. She felt like she was in a crowded room, looking for one particular conversation. One that she couldn't find because everybody else was louder.

Maybe she really _was_ uncontaminated. Or maybe Janus had learned to close certain thoughts in his mind, leaving them inaccessible to Krystal. She thought about that for a few seconds, then nixed that idea. Calling Janus a klutz with his mind was being considerate. The same went for his fixer. The only other possibility was that someone else had injected her without telling anyone. And whoever it was must have disappeared.

Just to check, she dug her right index fingernail into her left forearm, about halfway between her wrist and elbow. She sucked in a quick breath as she jammed the fingernail into her skin and felt it break the surface. Holding back a grimace, she pulled the corner of her fingernail out. It didn't take long for a small drop of blood to reveal itself. Krystal massaged and squeezed the area of her arm to bring out a little more blood. She was looking for one thing only, and her heart was racing. She was hoping, praying she wouldn't see it.

Just before the crimson could soak into her blue fur, she shakingly dabbed at the droplet with her finger and looked closely. There was a silver glint that lasted maybe half a second. Not long after was another one.

All the anxiety she had built up in the last minute or so culminated in an uncontrollable gasp as she lost her breath. Instinctively, she looked around the empty room with fearful eyes, wondering if anyone had seen her. She was terrified, knowing Janus could end her life so quickly and not be aware of it.

In shock, Krystal wiped the droplet of blood off using her bare left arm. The blood quickly spread out in her blue fur, becoming invisible. But what wasn't invisible were the tears falling from her eyes.


	14. Chapter 13

_This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy. I can't believe I'm doing this._

Apprehensive was an understatement. Fox was terrified that he was putting himself and his entire team's survival in the hands of Wolf O'Donnell and Leon Powalski. But what choice did he have? The Arwings were useless at this point. Thankfully, he was given access to the Wolfens that were hangared here at Sargasso. If he could have it his way, he'd take Slippy to the Great Fox, then come back for Ben and then Falco. An Arwing, and presumably a Wolfen, had room for two passengers, although it would be an uncomfortable ride.

Granted, he could at least trust Wolf somewhat because he was his wing gunner during the Aparoid invasion of Corneria City. Wolf never tried to throw Fox off his wing during that battle, and if anything, the job of piloting Wolf had done that day was phenomenal. Definitely enough to leave Fox duly impressed.

For some reason though, Fox was trying his hardest to misconstrue Wolf's intentions as a way to get rid of the Star Fox team. In his mind, the Aparoid invasion somehow "didn't count." It was difficult to all of a sudden trust one of your most hated enemies, especially when seventy-five percent of your team was unable to defend themselves.

Once they arrived at Corneria or the Great Fox, their prospects didn't look any better. How would ROB respond to the arrival of a Wolfen? How much of a spectacle would landing a Wolfen at the Corneria City docking port make? How would any of the Star Fox or Star Wolf teams keep a low profile? And how long would Fox have to be Wolf's "leverage?"

_Calm down,_ Fox thought to himself. _You're thinking too far ahead._

Fox was piloting one Wolfen with Slippy crammed behind the cockpit seat. Wolf was piloting another, carrying Falco with him. And Leon was begrudgingly giving Ben a ride. It was originally flipped, with Wolf responsible for Ben and Leon responsible for Falco. But that idea was quickly vetoed when Leon gave an obvious grin, ready to torture his rival.

As they waited for the hangars to depressurize, Fox ran through a mental checklist on the Wolfen. These fighters were designed after Arwings, thanks to the thankfully late Andross, so the vast majority of a Wolfen's systems were identical to an Arwing's. A couple of display features were slightly different, but the controls were all the same. All diagnostics passed for Fox, although he noted with some dismay that the cockpit smelled like roses. This was Panther's Wolfen, nicknamed the Black Rose, and he apparently went to great lengths to make sure it embodied the concept of a rose.

"This is Wolf. Checking radio frequency. Respond, over," Wolf announced into his headset.

Seconds later, Leon said, "This is Leon, copy."

"Fox here. Copy."

"McCloud, give us a flight path," Wolf instructed.

Fox involuntarily winced slightly, not used to his adversary giving him instructions. After a couple of seconds, he announced, "We're swinging by Aquas. ROB and the Great Fox are there. A direct line to Corneria is blocked by some object that's causing a debris field."

"Gravity well," Leon said almost immediately.

"A what?" Fox asked.

"Grraaavitee welllll," Leon repeated at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Janus' fixer let that info slip when he visited us," Wolf said through clenched teeth.

_Don't ask questions,_ Fox thought to himself. _Worry about that on Corneria._ He was simply thankful neither Wolf nor Leon objected to his planned route.

Fox sighed, mulling over his decision to side with Star Wolf for the time being. "Nobody boards the Great Fox," he said through his radio collar. "As we approach it, I'm going to instruct ROB to pilot back to Corneria City." The idea hit him suddenly. He wondered what might happen if Leon or Wolf got a hold of ROB or the Great Fox. At this point, all he could trust was that Wolf wanted to see his plan through with Janus. Beyond that, there was no telling what he and Leon could do. Best not to give them a chance in the first place.

At that moment, the red lights on either side of the bay holding what was formerly Panther's Wolfen turned on. Hangar depressurized. Fox waited for a second before the bay doors leading out of the Sargasso Station began to open noiselessly.

"Don't engage in any dogfights," Fox instructed, reminding Wolf and Leon of their predicament. He wished he could use something to his advantage to make sure they followed his orders, but nothing came to his mind. Besides, it was quickly decided for Fox to take Slippy back to Corneria, probably for that exact reason.

"You just worry about your frog," Leon chided.

The pitch-black backdrop, painted with stars, filled Fox's vision as the bay doors finished opening. To him, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Being in space was almost second-nature to him. Fox lifted the Wolfen off of the hangar surface and coasted out, away from the station. To his right, two other Wolfens appeared.

Fox stalled his starfighter and began working with the astrogation interface on the panel in front of him. Most of the commands were the same as an Arwing, except they were arranged differently. With some effort, he slowly set the course to take him, Wolf and Leon past Aquas. It didn't take long after that to finalize the route to Corneria City.

And just like an Arwing, he uplinked the intended route to Wolf and Leon. Given the capability for the speeds the Wolfens could reach, Corneria City was about twelve hours away.

Fox glanced backward at Slippy, who was unconscious at this point. Normally, his skin was a vibrant green color on his back, and his chin was light yellow. But Falco was right in his assessment that Slippy was anemic. His hands and the area around his face were beginning to darken, and the once-vibrant green was now much lighter in tone. Fox sighed, hoping he could get Slippy some medical help before it was too late.

"Starting course to Aquas, followed by travel to Corneria City," Fox announced through his radio collar.

"Copy," Wolf and Leon said simultaneously.

Fox directed the Wolfen toward the flight path and began accelerating away from the Sargasso Station. Not far behind were two other Wolfens.

"I want periodic updates on how Ben and Falco are doing," Fox announced, trying to gain a vestige of control in this predicament.

"Your teddy bear is doing fine," Leon said sarcastically. Fox rolled his eyes, knowing someone who supported Wolf so much would take every opportunity to remind him where his allegiance was.

"From Falco and Ben," Fox clarified with a hint of frost in his voice.

"Wrist is in pain, but I'm okay," Falco immediately said from behind Wolf.

"Can't say how the bear is," Leon replied slowly, trying to provoke Fox. "I've gotta keep my focus forward, and he's still unconscious."

There was no word from Wolf about Leon's comments. In all of his interactions with Wolf, Fox never heard him chastise one of his teammates. He noticed Wolf gave them pretty free reign on what they could say, but the moment their goals diverged from his own, they were booted.

Fox gritted his teeth, doing his best to make sure Leon didn't get into his head. If there was ever a time he needed an infinite supply of patience, this was definitely it. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Wolf and Leon were planning on disposing of him after they were finished with Janus.

_Keep focused,_ Fox reminded himself. _You won't get anywhere without trusting them._

"If Ben wakes up, I wanna know," Fox replied to Leon after a short silence. And silence met his ears again. There was nothing to say after that exchange. The level of distrust Fox had for Star Wolf was almost ridiculous. Sure, Wolf had helped Fox and company end the Aparoid threat, but it was only seemingly because Wolf wanted to be the one to dispose of Fox.

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend,_ Fox thought sarcastically. He squeezed his eyes shut in irritation. _Fat chance._ He glanced backward at Slippy again. There was no change in his skin tone, although his blood was beginning to seep out of Falco's flight jacket.

Just as he turned his attention forward, Leon's voice crackled into his headset. "Gravity well on the ecliptic, heading our direction. Adjust flight path twenty degrees upward."

"Copy," Fox said reflexively. He hoped Leon was telling the truth about the gravity well.

Looking forward, Fox noticed Aquas turn from a point of blue light into a marble-sized planet within a matter of minutes. Even with the suborbital circling of the Lylat System's two stars, a properly equipped starfighter could easily reach the distance between planets within a matter of hours. The only true barrier to how fast they could travel was the speed of light. In practice, however, the materials needed for construction limited the top speed to about seven-tenths the speed of light. Any faster than that, and, of all things, the radiation pressure from the Lylat System's stars would become too much for the materials to handle.

Suddenly, a small circle of Aquas seemed to disappear just as the blue color brightened. The edge of the section cut out of the planet smeared into a diffuse blue light.

_What the hell is going on?_ Fox wondered. But he didn't question Leon's orders as he pulled the yoke backward, nosing the Wolfen up. The cut-out section of Aquas adjusted itself downward on the planet before slowly disappearing entirely. And in its place were two separate Aquases.

_Nineteen. Twenty._ He leveled the starfighter out as his radar screen chirped, signaling a threat below. There was the same debris cloud as before. The one Ben lost his G-diffusers fighting against.

Fox looked again at Aquas to find what he thought was the real planet in front of him, steadily getting larger. But below, was the same planet, only appearing more squashed. It quickly turned into a diffuse blue light before completely disappearing, leaving only one planet behind.

"Never seen _that_ before," Wolf mused.

The three Wolfens nosed back downward, reaching the ecliptic plane once more. Aquas filled approximately half of Fox's canopy view, which meant they were going to turn toward Corneria in a few minutes.

Fox removed his headset and adjusted the setting to encrypt his communication. He switched the channel to Gamma-One, the frequency for the Great Fox.

"ROB, no boarding of the Great Fox is to happen until we arrive back home. Switch course to Corneria City docking port."

He waited. A few seconds later, ROB's voice crackled over his headset.

"Affirmative," came the reply.

Just to check, Fox asked, "What is the status of the Great Fox?"

A few seconds passed. "No damage. No interactions with hostiles."

"Did anyone try to board the Great Fox?"

Pause. "Negative."

Fox shrugged on the inside. Nothing of interest, which was great news to his ears. He whipped his headset off again and decrypted his communications. Switched the channel back to its original setting.

"Turning left, toward Corneria," Fox stated. "Set flight path to Corneria City. We're landing at the docking port unannounced." He took a deep breath and sighed quietly, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

"That sounds normal to me," Leon said, his inflection betraying a grin.

"Good call," Wolf acknowledged.

Arriving at Corneria City without fanfare made the most sense to Fox. If he would have announced Wolfens on the way, the three starfighters would have been destroyed quickly, without giving Fox a chance to explain himself. And it didn't help that Fox thought his communications with Peppy were hacked. How else could someone explain the Venomians guarding Aquas? Or the Sargasso distress beacon?

But approaching the docking port unannounced in Wolfens was just _asking_ for the Cornerian military to spring into action. Fox grumbled slightly, knowing he was proverbially walking on a razor's edge. Everything would have to be timed perfectly for them to step foot on Cornerian soil without any other injuries.

And so without protest, the Wolfens banked left and accelerated toward home.


	15. Chapter 14

Fox sighed, wondering if his decision to stay quiet really was the best way to make planetfall. His home planet was in view, the route into the atmosphere already planned and calculated. Landing at Corneria City docking port. Not far from the headquarters for the Cornerian Defense System.

There were three different ways Fox thought this trip could end.

Option one: No announcements, keeping their entry clandestine. The CDS would definitely notice and unleash an arsenal of explosives in their direction. Evasive maneuvers were out of the question, considering the state of the passengers in each Wolfen.

Option two: Announce himself now, even though Fox was pretty sure his comm line with anyone on Corneria was tapped. At their distance, a notification of their approach gave someone enough time to mobilize for the Wolfens' landing. Once again, it wouldn't end well. Death or capture was certain.

Option three: Hope the CDS would ask for identification. It was a slim chance, as they could visually resolve something the size of a Wolfen from a considerable distance. And once they identified the three approaching craft as Wolfens, Fox, Wolf and Leon would probably get the shoot-first-ask-questions-later treatment.

As Fox was thinking about his options, Wolf's voice crackled over his headset. "Fighter craft approaching head-on." He said it without feeling, just like ROB would have. Wolf was simply stating what was happening, not what he thought his copilots should do.

"Do we stay quiet?" Leon asked. Silence met his question, so after a few seconds, Leon clarified, "Fox, do we stay quiet?"

Fox gritted his teeth and nudged the yoke to his left, banking the Wolfen slightly out of the path of the Cornerian fighter. "Yes, stay quiet," Fox responded after a few seconds.

Just like when they approached Aquas, it didn't take long for the planet to fill the canopy glass of the Wolfens. Fox began decelerating in preparation for atmospheric entry just as the Cornerian fighter silently sped by. Fox kept his eyes glued to the radar screen. It didn't take long for the fighter to whip around for a killing shot from behind. Fox couldn't tell which Wolfen the fighter was aiming for first, but it didn't matter. Each Wolfen carried at least one Star Fox member.

"Oh, no," Fox mumbled. Without thinking he shouted into his headset, "Wolf, open a comm line to the CDS. Tell them you've got me hostage."

"Now!? I thought you wanted to stay quiet!" Wolf shouted back.

"There's no time! A Cornerian fighter is on our tails! I don't think he's gonna ask for ID!"

Wolf never acknowledged. Instead, Fox heard him announce, "This is Wolf O'Donnell! I've got the Star Fox team with me! Don't shoot, unless you want your hero's blood on your hands!"

Fox stayed quiet, waiting for any sign of assent from the planet in front of him, or the fighter behind him.

Seconds passed, but it almost felt like hours. Finally, a transmission from the planet in front of them arrived at their headsets. "Land at the docking port. We will escort you there."

"You know what's gonna happen once we land, right?" Fox said into his headset.

"Me and Leon go into custody," Wolf replied dryly after a few seconds. He must have been switching the channel on his headset.

"And they won't let you or Leon anywhere near me," Fox added.

The Wolfens continued to decelerate until their fuselages began to turn a dull orange. Fox's feet pressed the G-diffuser pedals down, causing them to whine to life.

"Do the Wolfens have a strong heat shield on the bottom?" Fox asked.

"Yes, but it'll be easier to do sidewinders if you wanna slow down," Wolf replied.

As if on cue, a voice said into their headsets, "Wolf, begin slowdown maneuvers."

"Banking," he said. His Wolfen turned to the right as it shed speed entering Cornerian airspace. Fox and Leon followed. The G-diffusers did their job, reducing the shaking of reentry to small vibrations.

Wolf led Fox, Leon and two other Cornerian fighters on what seemed like a wild goose chase as he banked several times back and forth. Several orange streaks painted the cockpit glass of the Wolfens during entry.

As the Wolfens slowed down to a manageable speed, Fox's radar chirped at him, signaling a new object in his vicinity. It was approaching from below and in front, but clouds were obscuring his vision. He glanced at the radar again and noticed the object was approaching his position quickly. Like it was a missile.

"Unidentified object approaching!" Fox shouted into his headset. According to his radar, he had about two seconds to impact. Fox slammed his feet down onto the G-diffuser pedals and pulled the yoke to his right, increasing the bank on his turn. Fox almost turned the bank into a barrel roll, but he remembered at the last second Slippy was on board with no way to brace himself. Instead, he kept the bank at about sixty degrees, pressing him and Slippy downward into the cockpit floor. Fox glanced to his left, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was approaching.

It was a missile. Fox heard the hissing sound the rocket made as it barely missed his left wing. He knew the missile would U-turn and approach its targeted Wolfen from parallel before detonating. But before the missile could turn, the Cornerian fighter collided with the missile and disappeared in a massive explosion that jolted Fox and Slippy to their left. Slippy's head crashed into the cockpit wall as the G-diffusers were unable to absorb the shockwave quickly enough. He never moaned, indicating to Fox he had very little time left to get medical help.

"Are you that willing to kill your own escort?" Wolf taunted, addressing the CDS.

_Wolf, just shut up,_ Fox thought. But he didn't say anything, trying to keep from blowing his own cover. He knew it was gonna be blown anyway once they landed. There was no way he could wait to get help for Slippy.

"You wanna kill me? Fine! Go ahead! I've got Fox McCloud with me, so if I die, he dies too!" Wolf shouted. Someone at the CDS must have responded to his taunt. Wolf was playing this game on his own terms.

"Five minutes to landing," Leon announced into his headset. Fox wasn't sure if the CDS could hear him or not.

As they broke through the bottom of the cloud layer, the Cornerian docking port was within sight. Fox squinted, trying to figure out who was there. Surprisingly, the docking port was seemingly empty, at least on the tarmac. The entire complex was guarded with heavy security, so it wasn't like someone would land and try to run away. It simply looked like just another day, although that would change soon.

"Landing," Wolf said. Seconds later, the three Wolfens gently touched down, their hydraulics working to keep the crafts from bouncing.

From the entrance to the docking port, a flood of soldiers from the Cornerian military spilled onto the tarmac and surrounded the Wolfens.

"Keep your movements slow," Wolf instructed.

Fox opened the seal on the cockpit glass. He switched channels on his headset to the docking port and said, "Get medical help out here now! We've got three pilots injured!"

He unbuckled the harness holding him to the cockpit seat and jumped onto the wing. At that moment, all of the soldiers who saw Fox jump out of the Wolfen trained their guns on him.

"What was that about moving slow?" Wolf asked him pointedly.

Fox noticed the guns pointed at him, realizing the Cornerian military no longer saw him as an ally. Most likely, they were confused, but that only meant they'd end up shooting anyway. With all the threats to the Lylat System, the Cornerian military couldn't afford any indecision. As slowly as he could, Fox slid down to the ground, his boots contacting the pavement below.

Several soldiers advanced, their blasters raised and the safeties open.

"ON YOUR KNEES!" one of them shouted. He was a solidly-built Rottweiler.

Fox turned slightly toward the Wolfen he had just exited and pointed at it. "Get medical help now!" he said. "The other three Star Fox pilots are injured."

"_I SAID ON YOUR KNEES!_" the same soldier screamed, stepping toward Fox with his gun raised.

Fox immediately dropped to his knees with his hands raised. The dog soldier simply pointed his gun at Fox's head.

"You've got five seconds before I pull the trigger, so make it count," the soldier warned. "What are you doing flying a Wolfen?"

"The Arwings are totaled at Sargasso," Fox stated quickly.

"Where?" the soldier asked.

"The Sargasso Space Station," Fox clarified.

"That place doesn't exist. Two seconds."

"Fine," Fox said. "The Arwings aren't flyable, and they're not on Corneria."

"You brought Wolf O'Donnell here, didn't you?" the soldier asked.

"I didn't have a choice," Fox said, trying to explain. He looked the soldier up and down, figuring he must have been pretty high ranking in the military. Most grunts wouldn't have been asking questions like this.

"_One second_," the soldier said. Translated, that meant Fox had one chance left to keep his life.

"Yes," Fox said. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blast.

"Where is he?" the soldier asked.

"In one of the Wolfens over there," Fox said, pointing in the direction of the other two starfighters. He looked that way and noticed both canopies had already been opened. Fox gulped, knowing Wolf and Leon had used him already. They didn't even need to kill him; the Cornerian military would make sure of that.

"_STOP RIGHT THERE!_" a grunt shouted some distance away from Fox. He glanced in that direction and noticed Falco had clumsily gotten out of the Wolfen and had reached the ground. Most of the soldiers looked in his direction.

"Let me see your hands!" a soldier shouted. Fox wasn't sure if he was the same one who told Falco to stop moving.

Slowly, Falco grimaced as he moved his hands away from his chest. His left arm was fine, but the soldier immediately noticed his right wrist. By now, it was swollen to about twice its normal size, which made the sickening angle between his forearm and wrist even worse.

One of the grunts clambered up Fox's/Panther's Wolfen. He glanced inside the cockpit, and Fox heard him mumble, "Oh, shit."

"What is it?" the Rottweiler asked, turning toward him.

"Slippy Toad, sir. I think he's dead. Looks like Fox musta killed his own teammate."

"I wonder what else we'll find?" the officer shouted sardonically at Fox. "You killed Slippy and broke Falco's arm? I'm just _waiting_ to hear that Wolf, Leon and Pigma got away."

"Pigma's AWOL," Fox said without missing a beat. He knew not to say anything about Falco or Slippy, because if he denied the officer, his words would be misconstrued as a lie.

"He didn't do anything to Slippy or me," Falco said, grimacing through the pain of his arm. "Get medical help here five minutes ago, or you'll be the ones responsible for Slippy's death," he said, echoing Fox's original request.

The Rottweiler pretended to ignore Fox and Falco. "How did you get three Wolfens here?" he asked at a slow pace.

"Get medical help," Fox said, escalating his voice slightly.

"You seem awfully concerned about a teammate you just killed," the officer pointed out.

Fox glared back at the Rottweiler, but he finally realized the officer was trying to steer him into a confession. "He's still alive, and it was a turret. _Get medical help._"

The Rottweiler looked at Falco, then to Fox. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Medical help. Now," Fox repeated. "Then we'll talk."

The dog soldier sighed in irritation. "Knock him out," he said.

"No, wait!" Fox shouted. But his world quickly blurred and went black, just like when he sustained his concussion.

The Rottweiler turned to the grunt who found Slippy in the Wolfen. "Who else is here?"

"Falco and a bear, sir. No sign of the rabbit."

"Peppy?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Peppy's retired." He turned back to Fox, who had collapsed on the pavement. "Get him inside, and set up three medevacs."

"Yes, sir."

Two soldiers hoisted Fox up and carried him into the docking port terminal.

"Where's Wolf?" the Rottweiler asked.

"No sign of him, sir. I've already dispatched a search team to locate him."

The Rottweiler nodded, pleased that one of his underlings thought ahead before he could ask the question. He glanced one more time at Fox and mouthed the word _liar_.


	16. Chapter 15

Ben awoke in a hospital room, the clean smell and soft blues and greens coming into focus. He was alone. The only gadget attached to him was a heart rate monitor, which was simply a clip on his right index finger. He could take it off without any problem.

He wondered how he had ended up in a hospital ward on Corneria. The last thing he remembered was being scared out of his wits during that one-sided conversation with Wolf O'Donnell.

The door clicked open, and a female cheetah garbed in light green scrubs walked in. "How are you feeling?" she asked him.

Ben shrugged. "Okay, I guess. How long was I out?"

The nurse paused to think for a moment. "From when you arrived? About two hours. There was an electrode attached to the back of your head that was causing your brain to enter a sleep cycle."

"Must've worked pretty well," Ben said half-sarcastically.

"The Cornerian military and law enforcement use them all the time," she stated. "They're popular for riot control or subduing a single attacker without hurting anyone. We see a lot of them here, usually arrests."

"But I didn't do anything," Ben said, implying he hadn't committed a crime.

"Law enforcement would be standing just outside the door if you had. Relax."

Ben thought about what the nurse said to him. He figured Wolf must have had access to this type of electrode.

"How'd you get it out?" Ben asked out of pure curiosity.

"Deactivate it with heat, then pull it out. Probably the easiest thing we do here, if you ask me."

At that moment, the door clicked open again, and a white tiger poked his head into the room. He whispered something to the nurse. Ben picked up one word: _amputation_. He perked, but tried to hide it from the two hospital workers in front of him. The tiger noticed anyway.

"You don't happen to know Slippy Toad, do you?" the tiger asked him pointedly.

"Uh, yes, sir," Ben said. He had been caught, but the feeling subsided quickly. This wasn't something he was gonna get in trouble for. "I saw what happened to him."

"And?" the tiger asked, his eyebrows rising slightly.

"We got to the Sargasso Station to investigate a distress call from Wolf O'Donnell. As soon as we set foot inside, Slippy was shot by a wall-mounted turret," Ben said, the ordeal slowly coming back to him.

The tiger fully entered the room. He was a stocky individual, a little shorter than Ben, but very well-built. Obviously in shape. "He has no idea how lucky he was to survive that," he noted. "If he was turned just a little to his right, he would've been killed instantly."

Ben felt a little twang in his gut. That could have been him instead of Slippy. "Is…is he gonna live?"

The tiger paused. Ben quickly realized he was coming up with a lie. "We think so."

"Oh. Okay," he said, looking down slightly.

"I've gotta run," the cheetah said, breaking the awkward silence that had swamped the room. "I'll make sure Slippy will be fine," she said definitively.

"Wait!" Ben said. "Is Falco here too?"

The cheetah thought for a moment. "Falco…oh, yeah. Broken wrist. That way, down the hall," she said, pointing to her left. "His name's on the placard. You can visit him if you want. And, in fact, you're free to go. Just make sure you check out with the receptionist."

"Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome," she said. Both of them left the room and closed the door. Ben sat in his bed for a moment, then removed the heart rate clip from his finger. There was no sound of protest from any of the equipment, so he simply stood, checking his balance and vision. He looked around the room, craning his neck and stretching slightly to see if anything else had happened to him while he was out. Nothing out of the ordinary. He switched the gown for his jumpsuit, left the hospital room and turned right.

Five doors down the hall, a small placard indicated Falco's suite. A short mare with white fur walked out and quietly shut the door. She noticed Ben's look and whispered, "He just got out of the operating room. It'll be a couple of hours before he wakes up."

"Thanks," Ben whispered back. He didn't press the issue, not when he was generally familiar with being in a hospital. His father was to thank for that.

A burst of realization hit Ben, so he caught up to the nurse walking away from him. "Is this the West Hill hospital?" he asked.

She looked at him in slight confusion, but answered anyway. "Yes. Why are you asking?"

"I…I was unconscious when I was brought here."

She shrugged. Her eyes soon focused tightly on Ben. "You know, you look a lot like Dr. Kaspar."

"Is he here today?"

"I can't help you with that unless you have a good reason."

Ben was well aware that the staff at the hospital couldn't tell anyone about other staff members without reason. "I'm his son," he said.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I think his shift is about to end. Did you want to see him?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He followed the mare toward a break room, where Dr. Theo Kaspar was quietly talking with a surgeon, a weary dark-furred rabbit. He glanced toward the door when he noticed movement and saw his son standing with one of the triage nurses.

"Ben!" He stood and quickly moved toward the door, where Ben was left standing alone. Dr. Kaspar wrapped his son in a loose hug and whispered, "You have _no_ idea how worried I was when you were brought in here."

Ben sighed. "I...I don't really know what happened. I remember trying to talk to Wolf and that was it." He looked his father in the eye and gave a small gesture of resignation.

"Something wrong?"

"…Yes, sir," Ben said with a deep breath as he followed his father back into the break room. They sat down with the surgeon. "Slippy might not live," he said quietly.

"The surgical team is doing everything they can to stabilize him," the rabbit told Ben and his father matter-of-factly. "They're most worried about his blood loss, but we have twelve units of amphiboid blood on-hand. He should be fine."

"How do you know that?" Ben asked.

"I'm going into the OR in about ten minutes. Prosthetics specialist."

"What's happening with Slippy?" Ben asked generically.

The rabbit seemed to read his mind because he answered, "We don't have a choice but to amputate his right arm. He's fractured four ribs on his right side, and his right lung is collapsed. After we address the lung and ribs, we'll get a prosthetic arm fitted. Right now, we're estimating the entire procedure will last about seven hours. Most of it will be spent on amputation and fitting the prosthetic." Translated, that meant the surgical team was very experienced with blood loss, broken bones and collapsed lungs.

"Can you talk about what happened the last few days?" Dr. Kaspar asked his son.

"Yes, sir, but I'm not sure if any of it is worth saying. Except for defending the Great Fox from a Venomian," Ben said. "Pretty much the only thing I did right."

Theo scowled at his son for a second.

"I feel like I shoulda paid more attention once we got to Sargasso."

"You feel like you could have protected Slippy," the rabbit translated flatly.

"Well…I guess. All I was thinking about was getting the Arwing fixed." Both the surgeon and Ben's father looked at him without registering what he had said. "The G-diffusers had quit before we docked," he clarified.

"G-diffuser?" the rabbit asked.

"They, uh, they help keep the G-forces from making you pass out."

"Sounds like a lot going on," Dr. Kaspar observed.

"And I've _trained_ for that," Ben countered. "Unbelievable how everything I worked for the last five years all just went to waste in two seconds."

"You two continue on," the rabbit said, standing from the table. He made almost no attempt to conceal his tone of voice, which made Ben wince slightly. The rabbit left, heading toward the operating room.

"Anything else you want to complain about?" Dr. Kaspar asked sarcastically.

"No, sir," Ben said under his breath. He had achieved his dream of helping the Star Fox team directly, and now he was acting completely ungrateful for it.

"Hey, I never saw Fox McCloud. D'you know where he is?" Dr. Kaspar asked after waiting for Ben's attitude to clear.

"No, sir. He didn't come in with me, Falco or Slippy?"

"Nobody saw him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

Ben shook his head. His relationship with Fox, or anyone on the Star Fox team for that matter, was fairly distant.

"If you're really that concerned about it, maybe you could help by talking to Peppy. The Great Fox is landing at the space port in two hours, you know. I'm sure Peppy is going to be there."

Ben blinked slightly. It never even crossed his mind that the Great Fox wasn't on Corneria. "Is…is my car still at your house?" he asked.

Dr. Kaspar nodded.

"Do you have time to give me a ride home?"

"Of course. You're my son. Why should I ignore you?"

Ben looked down sheepishly. The illogical logic of parenting had struck again.

"You're smart," Dr. Kaspar said. "Once you get started, you'll get to Fox."

"Thanks," Ben said.

"Let's go," Dr. Kaspar suggested. He stood and began walking out of the break room.

Within seconds, the emergency doors slid open, and a team of paramedics rushed a patient in on a stretcher. Ben heard one of them curse, followed by another shouting, "There's still another outside!"

Dr. Kaspar's blood froze when he heard the tone of the paramedic's voice. Most likely another injury with one paramedic nearby. Dr. Kaspar rushed out of the doors followed closely by Ben and saw exactly what he didn't want to see.

Two coyotes who obviously spent a lot of time each day making sure they looked tough. They were grinning at the paramedic who was guarding an unconscious individual. One of the coyotes lunged at the ambulance and dragged the paramedic to the ground. He was a lanky, graying German Shepherd. He broke his fall just in time to keep from smashing his face, but it didn't stop him from snapping his left forearm almost in two. He yelled as he collapsed onto his shoulder, his face twisted into an agonizing grimace.

One of the coyotes cackled as he stomped on the paramedic's forearm, driving him nearly insane with pain. The other climbed into the ambulance and shouted back, "How do you wanna kill this one!?"

"_HEY!_" Dr. Kaspar shouted.

The coyote who was torturing the paramedic slowly turned to find Dr. Kaspar striding toward him.

"You stay out of this, doc," the coyote warned.

Dr. Kaspar stopped as he noticed Ben behind the coyote he was focused on. Before he could say anything, Ben reached over the top of his head with his right arm and hooked his fingers into the coyote's face. His index and ring fingers found the coyote's eye sockets.

The coyote let out a wail as Ben dragged him backwards by the eyes. He stepped with Ben's arm, trying to ease the pressure Ben's fingernails were putting on his eyes. The coyote desperately clawed at Ben's hand but couldn't gain any purchase.

Ben kept his fingers lodged in the coyote's eyes and brought his right knee up into the coyote's lower back. He bent backward in two, and Ben thrust his right hand straight downward, smashing the back of the thug's head into the pavement.

"HOW DOES _THAT_ FEEL!?" Ben shouted before kicking him in the bottom of the jaw. The coyote went limp as he was knocked unconscious.

The other coyote stopped his scheming upon hearing Ben shouting and looked up. He found Ben Kaspar striding toward him, completely bent on making his decision to mess with hospital staff his last one. He jumped off the rear bumper of the ambulance, cocked his head slightly and said, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"A nightmare," Ben whispered seethingly.

The coyote glanced at his fallen compadre, then looked back at Ben and noticed the Star Fox insignia on his jumpsuit.

"Really? You're with that stupid frog? The only reason he beat me in a fight was because he cheated."

Ben simply glared at the coyote and took a small step forward.

"You're digging your own grave, bear," the coyote warned.

Ben took another step.

Suddenly, the coyote lunged with a kick aimed at Ben's groin. Ben brought his right foot up and stomped downward on the coyote's shin, breaking it in two. Immediately, the coyote grasped at his leg and collapsed on his back, screaming in pain.

"Don't mess with me," Ben told him from above. He spat on the coyote's face, wheeled around in anger and strode over to the paramedic, who was being tended by Dr. Kaspar.

"Stay with the patient!" Dr. Kaspar shouted over the screaming of the coyote with the broken leg.

Ben turned and climbed into the ambulance to find an unconscious bearded dragon strapped to the gurney. He noticed blood dripping from the lizard's eyes and mouth. Looking closer, the blood had a slight silver tinge to it.

Ben sat down inside the ambulance, trying to let his edgy state of mind dissipate. He had to let the adrenaline wear off before he could make any rational decisions. But it wasn't being helped by the still-conscious coyote, who was now screaming epithets at Ben.

A few seconds later, the security guard came running out with a small team of paramedics, doctors and nurses.

"Oh, thank _goodness_," the security guard said out loud. He grinned as he stood over the coyotes, knowing they couldn't go anywhere at this moment. Finally, all the interactions with law enforcement about these two thugs was going to pay off. They had the security footage. And now they had the suspects.

Ben saw the guard walk toward the ambulance and noticed he was a gangly lion, about the same height as himself.

The guard turned toward the medics and shouted, "There's two more in here!" He pointed into the ambulance to show them.

"No, sir. I'm fine. _He_ needs help," Ben said, pointing at the bearded dragon.

"Out of the way, please," a doctor told the two of them. Ben immediately got out of the ambulance and took a few steps toward the security guard. He watched as the team lifted the lizard out of the ambulance and carried him into the emergency room. The paramedic was gone, so he must have been taken inside as well.

"You're Ben Kaspar, aren't you?" the lion asked.

"Yes, sir. Am I being detained?" he asked preemptively.

The lion chuckled. "Not even maybe. I just want to thank you for making sure those two can't get out of here." He motioned toward the coyotes. The one Ben dragged by the eyes was still unconscious. And the one with the broken leg had given up on screaming. Or more accurately, his voice had given up on screaming. He was still lying on the ground, whimpering and curled into a ball, trying to protect his mangled leg.

The lion whipped out several zip ties and bound the unconscious coyote by the hands and feet. He said something into his radio collar that Ben couldn't hear and then proceeded over to the thug who was still awake.

"ARREST THE BEAR!" he shouted hoarsely. "HE BROKE MY LEG!"

Without saying a word, the lion wrestled the thug's hands behind his back and zip-tied them together.

"If you've got something important, you should leave now," the security guard suggested. Ben nodded, and walked back through the sliding doors toward his father.

"Can we go now?" he asked his father.

"Has the guard taken care of those two thugs?" Dr. Kaspar asked. Ben nodded slowly. His father sighed as he stood up from one of the chairs in the emergency room. As they walked out, he asked, "Where did you learn to fight so dirty?"

Ben shrugged. "Best way to end a fight." His tone of voice suggested this was a topic he didn't want to dwell on. Before his father could say anything, he continued, "That lizard had some kind of silver color in his blood."

They had reached Dr. Kaspar's sedan. Ben's father stopped with his hand a couple of centimeters away from the door handle. "What?" he asked.

"Why was the lizard's blood silver?" Ben clarified. He knew he had triggered something in his father's mind.

"I…I think those were nanites."

"Nanites?" Ben asked.

"They're little robots, smaller than your cells. We use them to repair leaky blood vessels and other similar things. But there have been some reports going around that they're being used to control people."

"You mean intentionally causing blood leaks?" Ben asked.

"Something to that effect, yes." Movement slowly returned for Dr. Kaspar, and he opened his door and slid into the sedan. Ben followed suit.

"How do you get rid of them?"

Ben's father grimaced slightly. "Dialysis is the best way to do it, but the nanites stick to the vessel walls easily. That lizard would have to spend about a month getting dialysis before enough of the nanites would be removed."

Ben grimaced just like his father did a few seconds ago. The thought of sitting down for several hours of dialysis every day, getting jabbed with needles every day, was definitely not pleasant.

Dr. Kaspar started the sedan and pulled out of the parking lot, the car hovering silently as they made their way toward home.

"Can anyone…I don't know, like…buy nanites somewhere?"

Dr. Kaspar shook his head. "They're only used in extreme cases, so our stock of them is tightly regulated. If you find some that aren't in a hospital, they were acquired illegally. And that also probably means they've been corrupted to destroy someone."

"How easy is that?"

"I don't know." He paused. "Look, I'll drop you off at home, but I've gotta go back to the hospital to check on that lizard. The Great Fox is due in ninety minutes."

"How did you know when it was gonna land?" Ben asked.

"It's all over the news. Three Wolfens make planetfall, Fox is captured by the military for letting Wolf O'Donnell run free."

Ben gulped. Fox just _let_ Wolf go? He couldn't imagine what Wolf would do with free rein on Corneria. He'd definitely be causing more problems than he'd be solving, that was for sure.

Dr. Kaspar slowed the sedan to a halt on the road next to his house. Ben's small hatchback was sitting in the drive, just like his father had told him.

"Thanks for driving, Dad," Ben said.

"No problem. This is what you dreamed of, right?" Dr. Kaspar said. Ben nodded slightly. "You already saved the day for two people, so go out and save the world." Dr. Kaspar winked at his son. Ben smiled a little, then got out of the car. He waved as his father U-turned and then pulled away.


	17. Chapter 16

The hustle and bustle of the space port west of Corneria City was apparent as Ben pulled into the parking lot. He deactivated the hover feature in his car, allowing it to charge its batteries through contact with the pavement. He locked his car and began walking toward the terminal. Several military officials were striding toward their destinations, giving this place a frenzied look.

He was searching for Peppy. Or if he got really lucky, he might be able to find Fox. Ben entered the space port and stopped in his tracks. So many voices were echoing inside the building it all coalesced into white noise.

It didn't take long for a military grunt to walk up to Ben. "Can I help you?" he asked.

_When in doubt, act like you're lost_, he thought. "I'm looking for Peppy Hare," Ben said to him. He did his best to sound official.

"And why are you looking for him?" the grunt asked pointedly.

Ben simply pointed to the Star Fox insignia on his jumpsuit. It was a metallic grey stylistic fox with horizontal wings. "I'm part of the Star Fox team. We were separated from the Great Fox, and our communications channel was hacked. I need to tell him what happened."

"Yes, sir. Follow me," the grunt said without hesitation.

There were a few perks to being part of the Star Fox team. One of them was not having to answer to the military.

Ben followed the grunt into a small room, where Peppy Hare was standing. He was separated by a pane of glass from Wolf and Leon. Both of them were sitting in metal chairs in an empty room. Fox was nowhere to be found.

_That was almost too easy,_ Ben thought to himself.

"General, sir?" the grunt said as he closed the door behind himself and Ben. "You have a visitor."

Peppy turned, and a look of relief washed over his face as he saw Ben Kapsar standing in front of him.

"Well, at least one of you is all right," Peppy said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine," Ben reiterated.

Peppy turned to the grunt and said, "Thank you." His tone indicated the grunt's supervision of Ben was no longer needed. The grunt gave a salute and walked out. Peppy turned to Ben and asked, "What do you know of Falco and Slippy?"

"They're both in the West Hill hospital, sir," Ben said. He tried to cut himself off without addressing Peppy as "sir," but that habit decided to show itself anyway. Peppy didn't seem to care, so Ben continued. "Falco has a broken wrist, and Slippy lost his right arm."

Peppy's expression sank. "That bad?" he asked quietly.

Ben nodded. "Yes, s-." He stopped himself just in time. "He, uh, was shot by a wall-mounted turret at Sargasso when we landed."

"What happened to you?" Peppy asked.

"Uh, Wolf found me and I was knocked unconscious," Ben said vaguely.

"Did he mention anything?" Peppy said, motioning with his shoulder toward Wolf and Leon.

"I don't remember anything he told me. All I know is that the Arwing canopies were smashed while he was talking to me, and everything went black after that."

Peppy sighed gruffly. "And I'm assuming the Arwings are still at Sargasso?" he asked, but his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

"Yes, sir," Ben said in deference.

"Guess how many prototypes we had," Peppy said, turning to Ben.

"Four," Ben said flatly. There was nothing he could do about Peppy's wrath, even if it was misplaced. All he could do right now was take it in stride.

"Exactly. And they're sitting idle at Sargasso. And I'd even bet they're still functional."

"As far as I know, they are, sir."

"So if we have another off-world threat, _what do we do?_" Peppy asked, locking eyes with Ben.

"What was I supposed to do about it!?" Ben shouted without regard to Peppy's rank as General. "How do you fly something that doesn't work in space?"

Peppy's jaw clenched. He stared at Ben for several seconds before wheeling back toward the pane of glass separating them from Wolf and Leon. He sighed audibly, too loud in fact. He was barely containing his anger, and he wanted Ben to know about it. "No Arwings. Falco and Slippy are out of commission. Fox is captured. And I'm not any closer to knowing what is going on at Sargasso. Or why it's important to us."

"Fox is captured?" Ben asked. Before Peppy could respond, he continued, "By who?"

"The military has him locked up tight. After he arrived piloting a Wolfen, they're probably interrogating him ragged." Peppy put some emphasis on the word "interrogating." To Ben's ears that meant Peppy suspected the military of torturing Fox for information.

"They didn't like Fox in a Wolfen," Ben inferred. He didn't give any hint that he wanted the conversation away from what was supposedly his mistake with the Arwings.

"The military thinks Wolf somehow convinced Fox to join him."

"Well, maybe he did," Ben said. "Wolf wouldn't just _let_ Fox pilot a Wolfen."

Peppy looked at Ben with a scowl. "I've known Fox since he was maybe ten. He'd never do that."

"What do you think, sir?" Ben asked, but he didn't try to stop himself from referring to Peppy as "sir" this time.

Peppy looked down, away from Wolf and Leon. "I have no idea. Wolf and Leon simply turned themselves in. And they know there's a massive bounty on their heads. None of this makes sense."

The door clicked open again. "General, sir?" the same grunt asked Peppy. Both Ben and Peppy turned to look at him. "Another visitor. He says it's urgent."

Peppy sighed and asked, "What's urgent?"

"He needs to talk to Wolf."

"Why?"

"He says he's going to discuss transport with you, Wolf and Leon."

"No, he can't come in. I'll talk with him myself. Ben, stay here, please," Peppy instructed. Ben nodded silently at him. Peppy walked out, closing the door behind him.

Ben couldn't hear anything Peppy and the other individual were talking about. The room he was standing in was soundproofed. He glanced at Wolf and Leon and shifted his weight slightly. There was no response from either of them to his movement, so Ben guessed they couldn't see him. Neither of them was talking, as both were looking down.

As Ben stood there, looking at Wolf and Leon, something tweaked in his mind. The short conversation Peppy had with the military grunt just didn't seem right. Discussing transport to, say, a prison with Wolf and Leon felt like it was unneeded. Under normal circumstances, they'd simply be transported somewhere, and that was that.

Ben froze on his spot when he noticed Wolf twitch slightly. His hands were shackled to the chair he was sitting in. He took two heaving breaths and then opened his mouth, like he was yawning. It took Ben a second to notice the strain behind Wolf's eyes. He was screaming, not yawning. The room he was in really _was_ soundproof. Wolf's open maw was pointed straight at Ben, who noticed drops of crimson blood forming inside his mouth. His eyes were also starting to bleed. Wolf squeezed his eyes shut as Ben recognized Wolf was in a considerable amount of pain.

Leon craned his neck at Wolf and leaned away from him, like he was afraid of what was happening. His mouth moved, saying something, but Ben had no idea what it was.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath. He had a strong hunch it had to be nanites. Someone doesn't all of a sudden start bleeding. It didn't take long for his father's lesson on them to become a reality. He hoped Peppy was close by.

Immediately, he bolted toward the door and opened it. Found Peppy and a dark-feathered hawk calmly talking. The hawk's right hand was jammed into his pocket.

"General, something's happening to Wolf!" Ben shouted, interrupting their conversation.

Ben saw Peppy jump, but the hawk stayed calm.

Peppy rushed back into the room to find Wolf thrashing in his chair, blood streaming from his eyes, nose and mouth.

"I'll wait outside," the hawk said without concern.

Just before the door shut again, Ben noticed the hawk adjust something in his right pocket.

"Hey! Wait!" Ben shouted and wedged himself through the door. He locked eyes with the hawk and yelled, "What's happening to Wolf!?"

"Whoa, easy there," the hawk said. He held both hands up in a show of surrender. Both of them were empty. "You don't need to interrogate everyone who walks in, do you?"

"Is he dead!?" Peppy shouted. "Wait, no he's not. He's still breathing. Whatever it is, it stopped."

"Uh, sorry," Ben said, putting on a show of deference to the hawk. He took a moment to calm himself down before addressing the hawk. "We're already stressed as it is, so an emergency like this doesn't help us. I apologize."

"No problem," the hawk said. He waited a beat and then asked, "May I enter?"

"Yes," Peppy said in resignation from the other side of the door. He opened it wider to allow both Ben and the hawk inside. Both of them walked in.

The hawk was first to look at Wolf. "_That_ doesn't look good," he said. It was definitely an understatement.

"Any idea what happened to him?" Peppy asked.

"No, sir."

Ben watched as the hawk reached his right hand into his pocket again and fumbled with something. He had some kind of small object, as Ben noticed its outline a few moments ago.

There was a muted click, and Wolf began tensing again. He squirmed against his restraints, obviously in pain as his ailment took hold again.

"What the...?" Peppy started.

Without warning, Ben reached toward the hawk's right arm and hit him just above the elbow with his knuckles. The hawk jumped and shouted in surprise as Ben hit true on his ulnar nerve. His right hand jerked out of his pocket, bringing with it a small, silver object. It had a rubber button on it, much like a remote control for something. The object dropped to the floor between Ben and the hawk.

Before the hawk could react, Ben shoved him backwards and stepped between the hawk and the remote. He swiped it off the floor and held it behind his back for Peppy to see.

"What was that for!?" the hawk shouted.

Ben didn't answer, but glanced at Wolf again, who had relaxed and wasn't struggling against his restraints. He locked eyes one more time with the hawk, daring him to make the first mistake.

"What is that?" Peppy asked, his attention piqued by the object Ben was holding behind his back.

Ben tried to hold back a wince, knowing their cover had been blown. The hawk was here to kill Wolf, but now Ben and Peppy were his likely targets.

"Since neither of you are willing to discuss transport options with me, I'll see myself out. Thanks," the hawk said in a brusque tone. He opened the door and walked out. And closed it behind him.

Ben stared at the door for a few seconds unsure of what to do. He felt the remote in his hand, almost certain it was the cause of Wolf's pain. The hawk was seemingly in control of Wolf and wanted to end his life right here. But why?

"What are you doing!?" Peppy shouted suddenly, wrenching Ben's mind back to the present. "Follow him!"

Ben didn't even acknowledge Peppy. He simply whipped the door open and dashed out. He was met with the Cornerian military once again, all of whom were striding purposefully toward their destinations.

Ben looked around for a second, trying to discern anything that might give the hawk away. Dark feathers, maybe a beak if he could catch a glimpse of it. He walked into the chaos and immediately realized his mistake. Ben was of average height, so it was difficult to see over about half of the military personnel. There was no way he'd find that hawk again, unless it was through pure luck.

There was a spiral staircase about twenty meters to Ben's right, so he hurried over and climbed a few steps. Looked out over the crowd. No hawk. A scan of the entire open room he was in didn't reveal anything either.

Ben returned to the ground level and walked toward the exit, leading into the parking lot for the port. The crowd was much less severe outside, but once again, there was no sign of the hawk.

Ben sighed gruffly and returned to the space port. He turned right and reentered the interrogation room to find Peppy staring worriedly at Wolf.

"Did you find him?" Peppy asked impatiently.

Ben shook his head. "No, sir." He paused. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Peppy chided. "We recruited you for the Star Fox team. You've gotta start showing you belong here."

"Yessir," Ben said quietly. There was nothing he could do or say if Peppy launched into a rant. His hesitation was the reason the hawk was able to get lost in the crowd. As sly as he was, Ben suspected it would be a while before they'd meet again. If ever.

"What's in your hand?" Peppy asked after a brief silence.

"I…I think it's a remote control for nanites, possibly?" Ben said.

"Nanorobotics? I thought hospitals were the only places allowed to have those."

"I guess that hawk got a hold of some," Ben inferred.

"He dropped that remote?" Peppy asked.

"Yes, s-…" Ben said, stopping himself just in time again.

Peppy's eyes clouded over in thought. "I think most of Corneria would love to hear about Wolf's death," he mused.

Ben's stomach dropped. Peppy was about to squander an opportunity for potential inside information. Even if trying to talk with Wolf didn't lead to anything viable, they still had control over him. They had leverage.

With that thought, Ben decided to gamble. "I wanna talk with him," he said decisively.

"Who?" Peppy asked. "Wolf?"

Ben nodded silently.

Peppy sighed, mulling over Ben's sudden and probably rash decision. "Why?"

"What if we can get information from him? What if he knows something about that hawk? If he says something good, we can follow up on that lead."

"He's a criminal. And a good one at it, too," Peppy said. "He'll do anything to get himself out of this situation and back to Sargasso. _Especially_ with Arwings hangared there."

"We have control of him," Ben replied, holding up the remote. "He goes too far, and we can bring him back."

"Tell me how you're gonna do this," Peppy said, turning to face Ben.

"I'll show him this from the beginning," Ben said, bringing Peppy's attention back to the remote. "Tell him if he cooperates, he doesn't die."

"He's heard it before, I bet," Peppy said sarcastically.

"Okay, what do _you_ think should happen?"

Peppy sighed again, turning back to the window facing Wolf and Leon. Leon was still tense, his eyes darting between Wolf and a point in front of his own feet. Wolf was slumped in his chair, breathing heavily. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, creating a small puddle on the floor between his feet.

"Okay, I'll give you access. But I'll be listening the entire time."

"Deal."

Peppy took two steps to his right toward a console and turned a key. There was a click further to his right, which sounded like a lock disengaging. He motioned with his head toward the door. "All yours, Kaspar."

Ben walked around Peppy. Pulled the door open. And walked into the room, his footsteps echoing as he approached Wolf.


	18. Chapter 17

A bloodhound and a German shepherd were standing outside a heavy metal door, discussing what to do about their recent bounty, also known as Fox McCloud. He was still knocked out from the electrode planted at the back of his head.

The bloodhound locked eyes with the German shepherd. "Extract what he knows. I don't care how long it takes."

The German shepherd nodded. "Do we let him go after we're finished?"

"No. McCloud does not live past tonight. We give him live feed of the communications tower, and after he's talked, we clean the slate."

Both of them paused for a moment.

"It starts tonight, doesn't it?" the German shepherd asked.

The bloodhound took a deep breath. This was what they had worked toward. Their nameless leader had given them specific instructions on essentially everything about their lives. How to make purchases so that nobody would suspect anything. When to be in public view. How to act around others.

The bloodhound closed his hand around the handle of the door in front of him. Truth be told, he was starting to wonder what he had gotten himself into six months ago. He wasn't sure if he was ready for what was to happen tonight, but he didn't seem to have a choice anyway. It was going to arrive, no matter what he wanted. He steeled himself and pulled the door open. Walked into the room, followed by the German shepherd.

At the center of the room was Fox McCloud, sitting in a metal chair, his hands bound to the chair at his sides. His head was lolling backwards, the electrode keeping him in a sleep cycle.

The German shepherd picked up a heat gun and walked toward Fox.

"No, not yet," the bloodhound said. "Attach this under his chin." He held up another electrode, comparable in size and appearance to the one at the back of Fox's head.

The German shepherd placed the heat gun back on the table and took the electrode from his partner's hand. He loaded it into a clamp that held the electrode's wires apart. The German shepherd pointed the clamp at the underside of Fox's chin and pressed forward. The electrode sank into Fox's skin just as he removed the clamp. As the wires bent inward, the electrode was dragged further into Fox's chin until it was fully contracted. There was no reaction from Fox.

The bloodhound checked a closed-circuit camera hidden across the room from Fox. It had been programmed to track his eyes.

"Okay, now you can remove the electrode from the back of his head," the bloodhound said.

The German shepherd picked up the heat gun again and walked behind Fox. He tilted Fox's head forward slightly and trained the heat gun on the electrode. He activated the gun, and it whirred to life. After about ten seconds, the electrode emitted a shrill beep, which was their signal to remove it quickly. Using a pair of long forceps, the German shepherd slowly pried the electrode out of Fox's head. The tips of the wires had drops of crimson blood on them.

The bloodhound motioned with his hand, telling his cohort they should leave for at least a few minutes. They both walked out, locking the metal door behind them.

And they waited.

Within ten minutes, Fox's arms began twitching. His head rolled slightly forward as he woke up. As his eyes blearily opened, they focused on the pane of glass in front of him. There was a small metal table in the center of the room with two more metal chairs on the other side. He blinked several times, trying to clear his mind of the fog he was in.

Fox tried to move his arms, but they were tightly bound at his sides to the chair using zip ties. He grunted as he finally realized where he was. He mumbled something, but the microphones dotting the room didn't pick it up. His head whipped back up and glared at the glass. He had realized this was an interrogation.

"Do we go in?" the German shepherd asked.

"No. Activate the electrode and let him bake for a while. We'll come back in about half an hour. He should be more than willing to talk then."

Without saying a word, the German shepherd produced a small, grey remote with a single rubber button on it. He pressed the button into a locked position and left the remote there. The bloodhound ushered him out, leaving Fox to sit alone.

* * *

Fox was fully awake. Inexplicably, he had been transported here, wherever here was. And simply left alone. Classic interrogation technique. Leave the target for a while, check on him from time to time. And if he wasn't being cooperative, walk in, place a few "tools" in front of him and walk out. Just to get his mind going.

As his mind calmed down, a small jolt shot through his lower jaw. Instinctively, he flinched and closed his eyes. That same jolt of energy came back, gripping his jaw muscles. He thought he felt some of his back teeth moving.

Fox groaned in pain and finally opened his eyes. The paralysis was still there, leaving his nerves jangling, but he didn't feel that surge anymore.

He looked around the room, trying to figure out how he had just received that shock when he blinked again. The same jolt returned, gripping his lower jaw.

Fox grunted in pain again as his eyes reflexively closed, and the same continuous shock resumed its stranglehold on his mouth.

He forced his eyes open again, breathing heavily.

"I hope you're _damned_ happy about this," Fox shouted to the empty room.

He knew exactly what was happening. Whoever had captured him had left him here to continually get shocked. Every time he closed his eyes.

Blink. Shock. But every time someone is shocked like that, their eyes close. They don't have a choice. So it was more like blink, shock, react, fry. And it wouldn't have surprised Fox if they intended on "forgetting" about him for a day or so.

Fox blinked again, unable to keep his eyes open. His jaw seized from the electricity, but he managed to keep from reflexively closing his eyes.

It didn't take long for the urge to blink to return. The room almost seemed dehumidified, as if this interrogation was planned to the smallest detail. In this situation, even the strongest of minds would crumble.

His eyelids slammed shut, and the electricity coursed through his jaw again. He grunted in pain, but kept his eyes open. His jaw already felt like it had been mangled.

Fox wondered how he could get the interrogators to stop with the electricity. Oh, right, they had to _be_ here first.

He blinked again and was surprised by the jolt of electricity. He had already forgotten about it. His eyes closed in reflex, and he was once again welcomed by another surge. He forced his eyes open after about a second. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing was labored, and he felt like his lower jaw muscles would squeeze his teeth out of his head soon. And this was after how long? It felt like ten minutes, but it was probably one or two in reality. The passage of time seemed to slow to a crawl when Fox had to avoid doing something that was a necessity for sight.

Blink. Shock.

Blink. Shock.

Blink. Shock.

After what seemed like forever, Fox had no control over his tongue or lower jaw. His mouth simply hung open, saliva dripping down onto his chest. Everything had a strong metallic taste. His voice was shot, not from grunting, groaning or shouting, but from all the electricity. He felt his throat slowly closing as the overcharged nerve signals in his jaw slowly filtered toward his neck. His eyes were burning fiercely, and every time he blinked, he could feel how dry they were with his eyelids. Not to mention feeling his jaw seize as well. He was exhausted. His stomach was growling every few seconds or so, which made him even more exhausted. If he could just get something to eat, maybe he could stave off sleep for a while.

Sleep. Not good. Not now. He shuddered to think what it would be like if he suddenly collapsed into unconsciousness from exhaustion. Or what would happen if the interrogators came in and implanted a sleep electrode on the back of his head.

But for now, Fox was in somewhat of a rhythm. His mind wasn't even working anymore, so he simply sat there passively, fighting the urge to blink until he couldn't take it any longer.

Blink. Shock.

It was enough to wake him up for a few seconds, and then he simply resumed his slumped position in the metal chair, the zip ties digging into his wrists.

The metal door clicked, and soon after, a bloodhound and German shepherd walked in. Both were in standard Cornerian military getup. Olive green jacket adorned with various pins and gold stripes. Grey shirt underneath. Olive green pants. Combat boots. Their steps echoed throughout the room as they walked toward Fox, who didn't react. He could barely move in the first place, let alone look at someone.

In his mind, Fox knew there were two individuals near him. He simply sat there, waiting for one of them to do something.

A hand appeared in the upper half of his blurred vision. He felt his forehead being grabbed, and a second later his head was forcibly tilted backwards.

Fox reacted by closing his eyes. Another shock took hold of his jaw, making him tense with a voiceless groan.

"Take it out," the individual behind Fox said.

Fox was breathing heavily again, the air hissing as it entered and exited his mouth. He felt the saliva slowly trickle back toward his throat, but with no way to swallow, he realized he stood a good chance of choking. Thinking quickly, he started breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, which caused several droplets of liquid to spray upward. He hoped it would at least inconvenience the two military grunts here.

Fox saw the other grunt point something at his neck. He tensed and started squirming in the chair. Panic had gripped his mind, because his throat was going to be slashed. Or shot.

The hand holding his head back gripped one of his ears and yanked. Fox tried to groan in pain, but only a wheeze came out. He shut his eyes in response and received another shock.

"Don't move," the grunt holding his head told him. And he was silent after that.

There was a click, and Fox felt his throat being heated slightly. He stayed put, his breaths heaving as his throat got hotter and hotter. There was a shrill beep, and he saw a pair of forceps approach his throat. Fox began panicking again, but was able to stay still as the other grunt grasped something at the top of his neck and pulled.

There was no pain or feeling as the grunt pulled whatever it was out of his neck or lower jaw. Out of the lower half of his vision, Fox saw the grunt put the forceps on the table, adjust one of the chairs and sit down.

The grunt holding his head roughly shoved him forward before taking another seat across from Fox.

Fox forced his vision to focus and noticed he was sitting across from two military personnel, one of them a German shepherd, the other a bloodhound. He blinked without thinking and reflexively flinched. No shock. He reopened his eyes and looked down. Blinked again. No shock.

"Let's start right into this, McCloud," the bloodhound said to him without feeling. "What did Wolf O'Donnell tell you?" He waited for a response.

Fox never looked up.

"Answer the question," the German shepherd said to him.

No response.

"ANSWER THE DAMNED QUESTION!" the German shepherd shouted. Fox heard a chair scrape across the metal floor. Immediately after, the German shepherd slapped him across the face. There was no feeling, thanks to all the electricity he had absorbed, but with no neck muscles to stabilize his head, Fox was nearly thrown sideways.

Fox wheezed in pain as he slowly brought his gaze up toward the two military dogs.

"That's more like it," the bloodhound said to him. "I like it when I can look someone in the eye when I'm talking to them."

"What did Wolf tell you?" the German shepherd asked.

Fox just wanted it to end. Their ploy had worked. He was completely exhausted, and he knew if he didn't cooperate, the electrode would go right back into his jaw. And they'd forget about him for even longer next time. So the first sentence he tried to say involved Janus. But what came out of his mouth was a hoarse whisper with nothing intelligible.

"What? I know you're trying to say something," the German shepherd said.

Fox tried again, but got the same result. Nothing in his mouth worked. His tongue, lips, lower jaw and vocal cords were completely paralyzed.

Fox saw the bloodhound sigh in irritation. "What was the shock count on the electrode?" he asked his cohort.

The German shepherd looked at the remote in his hand. "Two hundred forty one," he replied. Before the bloodhound could answer, he continued. "It'll be a while before McCloud can do anything with his mouth again."

The bloodhound gave a frustrated groan, rubbing his forehead with his right hand. After a moment of deliberation, he tersely instructed, "Give him live feed of the tower. We'll come back after it's over."

_What's over?_ Fox thought.

Neither of them said anything as they stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. A few seconds later, a section of the glass pane lit up with an image of the interplanetary communications tower. It was definitely live, as there was activity on the streets leading to and from the building. Lights on the antennas dotting the roof waxed and waned, telling aircraft about its position.

Fox stared at the image, resisting the urge to blink. Eventually, he gave in, but there was no shock. He heaved a sigh of relief, not only because he wasn't being shocked anymore, but also because the military grunts' plan had backfired. Fox realized they wanted him softened, but if he couldn't speak, it didn't matter.

Immediately, he closed his eyes and fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

A loud, abrasive klaxon startled Fox out of his sleep. He whipped his gaze around the room, looking for any potential threats, only to find the room was as empty as it was when he fell asleep. The image of the interplanetary communications tower was still on display in front of him. There was still activity around it. Vehicles were travelling to and from the tower. Every now and then, an aircraft passed in the background. This time, however, there was a small counter in the lower right hand corner of the image. It was decreasing by one every second. Right now, the count was at ninety one.

A minute and a half. The communications tower. The two military grunts mentioning that they'd come back after something was over. It all fit together somehow.

Fox tried to adjust himself in the chair. He couldn't move much, as he was still bound by the wrists and ankles. He noticed his jumpsuit was soaked through on his chest from all the saliva that had been dripping from his mouth. It gave off a mild sickly scent, just enough to make Fox uncomfortable.

Thirty seconds. Half a minute left. Fox stared at the image, but nothing except for the counter looked out of the ordinary.

Ten seconds. The numbers in the lower right hand corner of the image disappeared. Still normal activity.

Fox counted the seconds down in his head.

_Four. Three. Two._

As he reached the last second, all the windows in the communications tower simultaneously exploded. Several solid areas of the tower also were blown out by other explosions. The image was close enough to see that there were several Cornerians flung out from the tower, almost all of them falling to their deaths.

The activity near the tower quickly stopped as a second set of explosions tore out smaller chunks of the tower, most likely because they were at the interior of the building.

Fox watched with his eyes rooted to the image as the tower buckled under its own weight before the supports snapped on its right side. The tower slowly tilted to its right, falling ponderously at first before picking up speed. It slammed into one of the roads leading away from the tower, plowing through the pavement like it was a sheet of wet paper. What was formerly the communications tower flattened as it finally hit the ground underneath. A massive cloud of smoke, dust, vegetation and other debris quickly overtook the streets nearby.

From start to finish, the demolition lasted maybe a minute. One minute, and that was all that was needed to destroy a key building on Corneria. One minute was all that was needed to end hundreds of innocent lives.

Fox stared in horror at the image, which now showed a smoldering black hole where the communications tower once stood. The area was trapped in a grey haze from the tower's collapse. He felt tears welling in his eyes, but he wasn't sure if they were in anger or compassion.

He groaned, straining his arms and legs against the zip ties binding him to the chair. He felt one of the ties bite deeply into his right wrist. He pulled again, feeling the zip tie bite a little deeper. Fox felt his jaw clench, realizing he had at least some control over his mouth again.

"RRRGH!" he groaned as he continued his struggle against the zip ties.

The metal door to the room alerted Fox as it suddenly clicked open, and the bloodhound was the only military grunt to walk in. There was no sign of the German shepherd. The bloodhound simply sat down across from Fox, backlit by the destruction of the communications tower. He simply stared at Fox.

"What did Wolf O'Donnell tell you?" the bloodhound asked.

Fox glared at the military dog across from him. The bloodhound was extremely calm, given what had just happened a few moments ago.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU _THINKING_!?" Fox shouted, straining against his bindings again. His voice was about halfway back to normal. Still hoarse, but functional nonetheless.

"The tower?" the bloodhound asked calmly. "I didn't have anything to do with that. I wanna know what Wolf told you."

"THEY'RE ALL DEAD!" Fox shouted back.

"Wolf. What did he tell you?"

Fox groaned again, straining against the zip ties. The bloodhound just stared at him, waiting for him to finish.

Fox groaned again, yanking his hands and feet against the zip ties when he suddenly used the only weapon he had available. He spit in the bloodhound's face. The bloodhound reacted fast enough to close his eyes, but Fox's salvo still hit true.

"I don't care what I have to do," Fox said threateningly. "There is no way you're going to walk free after I'm finished with you."

The bloodhound wiped the saliva off his face, and replied, "You don't have much time left, and I don't think you'll be doing anything. So you can make this easy or difficult. Your choice."

"I promised to protect this entire planet. So if you think you can just kill innocent people and not care, I'll make sure I'm the last person you'll see in your entire worthless life."

"I'd like to know how you plan on accomplishing that here," the bloodhound said without a hint of concern.

"You wanna know what Wolf told me? Fine, you'll know everything. I don't care," Fox said.

"That's what I've been asking for this entire time."

Fox glared at the bloodhound, letting the moment sink in. "He described someone exactly like you. Bloodhound, military grunt, brown fur. He said you're the reason why he wanted to get back to Corneria and take revenge."

"Bullshit!" the bloodhound spat. He bolted to his feet and tried to slap Fox across the face. Fox braced himself and blocked the bloodhound's hand with his shoulder. "Give me the truth or I put the electrode back into your throat and watch you asphyxiate."

"That _was_ the truth," Fox said. Even though it was a lie, he made it sound as resolute as he could. He was searching for a bit of information he could use against the bloodhound.

The bloodhound huffed in frustration as he grabbed the clamp for the electrode and loaded the same shock chip in. "Tell me the truth," he said threateningly.

Fox knew the bloodhound wasn't playing. It was time for a shot in the dark. "You're the reason for his headaches and hematoma," he said. "Nobody just _gets_ away with injuring Wolf. Not even me. And he's looking for you so he can kill you. Make sure you understand your mistake."

The bloodhound's jaw twitched. But he didn't say anything for a few seconds.

_Score,_ Fox thought to himself. He had hit on something he wasn't supposed to know.

"Where is Wolf now?" the bloodhound finally asked.

"How should I know? You knocked me out and dragged me somewhere. Why don't you find him yourself?"

"Where _is_ he?"

"I. Don't. Know." A sadistic thought suddenly crossed Fox's mind. He gave in and continued, "He's probably somewhere searching for Janus."

The bloodhound froze on the spot, glaring at Fox. Wolf must've told him everything.

Fox's attention was suddenly grabbed by a flash on the other side of the glass pane. It didn't come from the live feed of the communications tower site. Soon after, there was a muffled _thud_, which also grabbed the bloodhound's interest. The door clicked open, and the bloodhound saw a dark-furred bear of average height walking in. Fox immediately recognized him as Ben Kaspar.

"Who the hell are you?" the bloodhound asked.

"Wolf O'Donnell instructed me to take care of you," the bear said. He put some emphasis on the words "take care."

The bloodhound shot up from his chair and rushed Ben. He grabbed onto Ben's shoulders, just as Ben dropped to his back and planted his right heel into the bloodhound's groin. He held onto the bloodhound's arms, rolled backwards and threw the bloodhound over his head. The bloodhound's upper back collided with the metal wall, causing him to bounce slightly and land on top of his head. Somehow, his neck didn't break, but the impact was enough to leave him dazed for at least a few minutes.

Ben stood up and produced a small knife. He cut through the zip ties binding Fox and noticed the smell emanating from him.

"What is that smell?" Ben asked.

"They put a shock electrode in my neck. Paralyzed every muscle in my jaw," Fox explained. He stood and faced Ben, inspecting his wrists. His right wrist was bleeding and missing some fur, but nothing was too terrible. "How did you find me?"

"Microchip. Seems they didn't have enough sense to check for one," Ben said.

All four of the Star Fox team members had small microchips implanted in their upper arms. And Fox knew if they weren't deactivated or removed, any of them could be found through a tracking device.

Fox nodded in understanding. "I owe you, kid," he said after a minute. It seemed like he couldn't quite bear to say it, but it also sounded genuine.

"Let's worry about that later. For now, you don't need to be here," Ben said and started walking out of the interrogation room. Fox followed immediately.

As they left the room, Fox noticed the German shepherd from earlier with a small hole in his jacket. Ben was spot-on in shooting for his heart. Definitely a killing shot.

Before Fox could say anything, Ben explained, "They were planning on killing you. He told me about the communications tower after I heard from Peppy." Ben pointed to the lifeless German shepherd as he said this. "He said the words 'prescribed fire,' which matched what Wolf O'Donnell was saying."

"Yeah?" Fox said. He was asking Ben to continue.

Ben stopped and turned to face Fox. "Who's Janus?"


	19. Chapter 18

Fox was starving. The hunger pangs were becoming too much to ignore at this point. Granted, he could ignore them, which was a common occurrence during missions. But as he very well knew, the longer you wait to eat, the less energy you have. And if he waited too long between meals, the hour after eating something would be even worse. He'd feel like he would have to sleep it off. Given the circumstances, waiting another half a day or so was probably not a good idea.

As if it was speaking for him, Fox's stomach growled audibly. Ben noticed as they walked out of the building they were in and asked, "D'you wanna eat something now?"

Early in his career as a mercenary, Fox did everything he could to maintain his image as someone who was invincible. And that meant ignoring hunger pangs, among other things. But he learned very quickly that _keeping_ said image was much different than actually _being_ invincible. "Yeah, but let's make it quick. I've gotta make sure nothing else happens here."

"So you don't need anything else from me then?" Ben asked pointedly.

Fox stopped and took a deep breath. Being invincible also meant asking for help when he needed it. "I, uh, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that…I guess I'm so used to being in a situation alone."

"So you want me to leave," Ben interpreted.

"No, not that," Fox said with a huff. He was more frustrated with himself than with anything else. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. His stomach growled again. "Like, on the Aparoid Homeworld, I was the only one who was actually on the surface taking out the shield generators."

"Didn't the General crash the Great Fox into the shield anyway?" Ben asked.

"…Yes, he did," Fox said slowly. "But I'm not sure…" He paused. "I don't know if it would have mattered had the generators not been destroyed."

"But you had backup. The General gave you access to the Homeworld, right?"

Fox sighed again. "Look," he said curtly. "I'm sorry it came out that way, all right?"

"So do you want my help?" Ben asked. He didn't acknowledge Fox's apology.

Fox put his hands on his hips and closed his eyes. He still flinched slightly, expecting an electric shock to course through his lower jaw. "Yes, that would be great," he said, not really looking at Ben.

"Anywhere in particular you want to go?" Ben offered.

Fox opened his eyes and looked at Ben. "How far are we from Greywall Drive?" he asked.

Ben thought for a moment. "I don't know. Not sure where that is."

"Your navigation console will give you directions, won't it?"

"Yes, it will," Ben said. "C'mon. We probably don't have much time to get outta here."

They started walking again. It didn't take long to find the main entrance of the small building. It had an equally small parking lot, which housed only a few vehicles.

"How did you get in there?" Fox asked as they approached Ben's car. It was a standard silver hatchback.

"Nobody was standing guard. Those two military dogs were the only ones here besides you and me. It seemed like they wanted to keep everything in there a secret."

Ben remote-started his car, which activated the hover feature. Both of them climbed in, Ben driving and Fox in the front passenger seat.

As Ben pulled his car into gear, Fox glanced at the building where the failed interrogation had happened. It was worn down, definitely in need of a face lift. It almost looked like it was slated to be demolished within the near future. It seemed like a place most Cornerian denizens would want to avoid, which made it perfect for secrecy.

"What address on Greywall?" Ben asked, catching Fox's attention.

"Uh," he started, his mind slowly returning to the conversation between him and Ben. "83 Greywall."

Ben watched as the instrument panel brought up a diagram of the fastest route. "It's on the same side of the city as we're on now. Probably thirty minutes to get there at most."

"That sounds perfect," Fox said. He gave no indication to Ben that he lived at 83 Greywall Drive.

Ben pulled onto one of the streets and began driving.

The ride was spent mostly in silence. Fox generally looked uncomfortable with himself, thanks to his jumpsuit being soaked through in the chest from his saliva. Every time he moved, he felt it in his fur, and he knew it wouldn't take long for it to make an excellent beacon. For what he was thinking about, attracting all of Corneria City to his smell would have been disastrous.

Ben, for the most part, must have been ignoring the smell. He didn't seem to be in any hurry, which was a little surprising. The interplanetary communications tower had just been destroyed, but neither of them seemed to be interested. Yet.

Fox thought about this, coming to the conclusion that he and Ben were either in disbelief or they wanted to avoid that area for now.

Ben turned right onto Greywall Drive. He glanced around, noticing the mostly cookie-cutter type of homes lining the street. About halfway down Greywall was house number 83. He pulled into the drive and killed the power to the car.

"Thanks," Fox said. He opened the door and got out. Ben followed suit, closing his door and deactivating the hover feature. He watched as Fox entered the house, realizing this was where he lived. For such a dignitary, Fox certainly lived a modest lifestyle when his feet were on Cornerian soil. There was nothing remarkable about his house.

Ben walked in, removing his boots just inside the entrance.

Fox turned toward him, pointing at the kitchen and said, "If you're hungry, you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I'm gonna clean up, and after I get something to eat, we need to get outta here."

"Okay. Thanks." Ben was starving from having eaten so little recently. He wandered into the kitchen, browsing for anything that looked palatable. Within minutes, he had bread, assorted condiments and meat out. He assembled a sandwich and pulled a drinking glass down from one of the cupboards. Filled it with water and ate his meal standing.

Fox had walked into the bathroom for a shower, trying to get the smell off his fur. After he finished, he grabbed a clean jumpsuit and donned it. He walked back into the main living area and mumbled, "Starving."

Ben moved out of his way as Fox made a beeline for the sandwich ingredients. Fox sat down with his meal and began eating. Ben stayed where he was, leaning against the counter.

"Do you like it here?" Ben asked, looking around.

Fox shrugged. "It's okay. I'd rather be patrolling the Lylat System. Feels like that's where I actually belong."

"I woulda never guessed you lived here," Ben said.

Fox stifled a small laugh. "I don't need any more attention than I already get, kid." He paused and took another bite. "I guess that's a good thing about this neighborhood. It's not usually the media's focus." Fox paused for another bite. "Where's home for you?"

"Now or originally?"

"Now."

"Way on the other side of town. I live next door to where my mother used to live."

"Did she move away?" Fox asked.

Ben shook his head and looked down. "She died. Aortic dissection." All of the advances in modern medicine almost didn't matter with an aortic dissection. People generally died within minutes, before any help could arrive.

Fox stopped mid-bite. A brief tingle raced through his chest as he thought about what had happened to his parents. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said after a silence.

"Yeah," Ben said quietly. He paused. "It was one of those things nobody expected. One minute she was cleaning her house with me helping because I was visiting. The next, she collapsed. That was it."

"When did this happen?"

Ben paused to think for a moment. "About four years ago. I've been seeing psychiatrists on-and-off about it. But I just can't seem to get rid of that memory. I remember emptying the trash cans around the house. I saw her standing in the kitchen, cleaning plates or something like that. So I threw the trash in the bin outside and when I walked back in, she was lying on the floor, already dead." He paused again and took a deep breath. "I've spent a lot of time wondering if the same thing is gonna happen to me."

Fox silently took a deep breath. He didn't want to be talking about this. Not now. Not when he and Ben were about to see something just as bad. "I…It's good that you're talking to psychiatrists about this," he said after a long silence.

Ben snorted. "I've only found one who could actually help me. All the rest of them say something like, 'Good. Let it out.'" Ben slurred his speech, mocking his view of the shrinks he didn't like. "The psychiatrist who actually _did_ something moved away after two sessions." He paused with a sigh. "I guess...I guess the reason I've been trying so hard to be part of Star Fox is because I don't want to have anyone else so close to me die. Somehow, I want to protect them."

Fox nodded in thought. He turned to look at Ben and said, "That's noble." Ben nodded, still looking down.

Fox slowly finished his meal in silence and stood up to put the food back in storage.

A shy knock on the front door caught their attention. "I think I know who that is," Fox said. As he walked around the corner toward the entry way, he glanced at the security screen to find a small raccoon girl, maybe ten years old. He grinned, more of him putting on a show. Fox opened the door.

"Star Fox!" she screamed. She lunged into the house and wrapped his legs in a hug. "I missed you!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, I missed you too, Ellie."

Ben slowly rounded the corner to see what all the commotion was about. A small raccoon was holding onto Fox's legs for dear life, which he thought was humorous. Fox wasn't trying to get her off his legs until he finally asked, "Ellie, can you let go please?"

"I wanna fly an Awing!" she shouted. "You have to promise."

It took Ben a little bit to realize she was trying to pronounce "Arwing."

"Not until you're older," Fox said to her. He noticed Ben standing a few meters away and said, "Ellie, let go, please." She finally relinquished her grip on his legs. He knelt, bringing himself eye-level with her and said, "Tell you what. After I'm finished with my assignment, I'll give you a ride in my Arwing. Would you like that?"

Her eyes brightened as she realized Fox was on a mission. "Did you win?" she asked.

Something finally clicked in Ben's mind. Ellie was so locked into the present moment she couldn't make sense of what was actually happening outside of her immediate circle. She had to have some kind of mental disorder, but Ben knew better than to blatantly ask outright.

"Not yet," Fox told her. "But we're _gonna_ win. See?" He pointed toward Ben, who was caught slightly off-guard when she looked at him. "I've got someone helping me."

"He's gonna help you win?" she asked. Ben smirked a little. For being so simplistic, this little raccoon girl was awfully cute.

"Yep," Fox said. He looked out the door to find another raccoon striding in his direction. "Your mother's looking for you," he said to the kit holding onto his right pocket.

"Can you _please_ take me with you?" she asked.

"No, Ellie. You need to stay home," Fox said.

"Aww, you're no fun," she responded. Ben had to walk behind the corner to prevent anyone from seeing him laughing.

"Fox, I'm sorry again," Ellie's mother said as she crossed the threshold.

"No problem," Fox said. "She just had to say 'hi.'"

"You heard about the communications tower, right?" she asked. Fox nodded. "Any idea what's going on?"

"We have a guess," Fox said. "We're about to head into the city to prevent anything else from happening."

"D'you think we should evacuate?" she asked.

"Not really. But it wouldn't hurt to make sure your security systems are online."

She smiled. "Good luck out there." Fox smiled back.

"But I wanna go with Star Fox!" Ellie shouted as her mother led her back home. Fox closed the door behind himself and walked toward Ben.

"She's cute," Ben observed.

"Yeah, she has definitely helped keep me grounded," Fox said.

"Is she…um…" Ben started.

"Some kind of autism," Fox said, finishing Ben's thought. "Apparently, I'm the only one she does that around."

"Well, you promised her a ride in an 'Awing,' Star Fox," Ben said animatedly. "So let's win this."

At that moment, Ben understood what Fox meant by Ellie keeping him grounded. She hadn't even acknowledged him, but her attitude was contagious. It hadn't taken long for Ben to go from thinking about what had happened in his life to being completely calm. And it was all because of that little raccoon girl who could only think in the present tense.

Fox grinned. "I wish everything were that simple. She doesn't understand most of what's happening around her."

An awkward silence fell around Fox and Ben. Both of them were thinking about what their next move was. Accessing the communications tower site would have been nigh impossible with the rescue workers busy there.

"Can I run an idea past you?" Ben asked, breaking the silence.

"Let's hear it."

"General Peppy still has Wolf under his guard. What if we use him and Leon as bait? Maybe we can get a link to Janus."

Fox thought for a moment. "Might work. We'd need to get Wolf to cooperate, though." He paused. "Well, he seemed awfully willing to ask for my help at Sargasso." Fox paused in thought again. "I don't have any other ideas, so let's start there."

Both of them walked out of Fox's house. Fox locked the door and activated the security system. He also enabled tracking for Ellie, as her family had trusted him to help protect her when his feet were on the ground.

"Ready?" Ben asked.

"Ready," Fox said.

They both got into Ben's car. He started the motor, causing the car to hover. He backed out of the drive and silently drove away from Fox's house.


	20. Chapter 19

Janus glared at the hawk after hearing the news. Anyone else, and they'd be finished with that job, free to continue what had already been set in motion. But with Fox and his team, there was always a way for them to escape any situation. He snorted, giving the Star Fox team a modicum of credit. That resourcefulness was the same thing that brought down Andross twice.

"One dead, one in traction," Janus repeated. The hawk nodded slowly. Janus sighed. "I'll give you a second chance to take care of Fox," he said with a hint of warning in his voice.

"Do we _really_ need to kill him?" the hawk asked. But he already knew the answer.

"Yes, we do. I now understand how Andross was defeated. Fox can disrupt any plan almost at will."

"Yes, sir. I'll make sure he doesn't escape again."

"Good," Janus replied. "I want to see this all the way through." He paused, thinking. "You told me you were going to finish Wolf, correct?"

The hawk's posture shrank a little as he heard the question. "Uh, Wolf is still alive, sir."

"_What?_ You've failed me twice in five minutes. I don't know why I should keep you here. I'd even bet the vixen could do a better job than you."

"Sir, I didn't expect the bear to be at the space port. We shot him with a sleep chip, but he must have gotten medical treatment quickly."

"What bear?" Janus asked, his eyes burning into the hawk's.

"He knows General Peppy, so he must have been in the military. And I _thought_ I saw the Star Fox insignia on his jacket."

"So?"

"Well, sir, I didn't expect him to have the training he has."

"What do you mean? He somehow flew a disabled Arwing through space?" Janus asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"No, sir. I mean the bear seems like he can fight."

"I thought you knew not to pick fights."

"Just let me finish, sir. He must have seen the remote for Wolf's nanites in my pocket. When I activated them, he knew exactly where to hit my arm to get me to drop it."

"Explain."

The hawk showed Janus his right elbow and pointed to an area just above it, slightly on the inside. "This is where he hit me, and I couldn't stop my hand from flying out of my pocket. It's like he's been trained to target certain areas."

Janus thought for a moment. Instead of taking his anger out on his fixer, he nodded slightly. "Come here," he said, motioning toward a glass pane across the room. He activated it, showing a still image of the entrance to an emergency room. He pointed at one of the individuals shown on the display. "Is this the bear you're talking about?" Janus asked.

"Yes, sir. That's him," the hawk said.

"I think he has some extra training besides combat ops. Watch." Janus started playback of the security footage.

The playback started with their two hired coyote thugs. One of them dragged a paramedic out of an ambulance. The paramedic's face wrenched into a grimace, and he rolled over onto his side, holding his left forearm.

"So one of the thugs breaks the paramedic's arm," Janus described as he paused the display. "Now watch what the bear does." He resumed playback.

In the display, the Star Fox bear strode up behind the attacking coyote, whose attention was focused on a doctor of some sort in front of him. The bear quickly reached over the coyote's head and yanked hard on his face.

Janus stopped the playback. "Where is he grabbing?" he asked.

"The coyote's face," the hawk said immediately.

"Look closer," Janus said. He focused the image around the coyote's face for the hawk to see.

After a few seconds, the hawk's hand covered his mouth slightly. "His eyes," he whispered. He took a deep breath, obviously disturbed by how the bear was fighting.

Janus said nothing as he resumed the playback.

The coyote tried to grab at the bear's arm in desperation and seemed to get a little bit of the pressure relieved. The bear simply responded by slamming his right knee into the coyote's back. The coyote bent backwards, and the bear dropped his weight, crunching the coyote's head into the pavement. And all of this was done by holding onto his eyes. The bear shouted something at the coyote and kicked him in the lower jaw. The hawk's eyes instinctively moved to the left slightly, expecting the coyote's head to be knocked clean off his neck.

Janus said nothing as he let the playback continue rolling.

The other coyote jumped off the ambulance and had a short exchange with the bear. He rushed forward with a kick. The bear simply picked his right leg up and stomped down on the coyote's kicking leg. Even from a slight distance, it was painfully clear that the bear had snapped the coyote's shin into two pieces.

"Oh…" the hawk whispered. This bear was completely unarmed, and he made minced meat out of two coyotes within seconds.

Janus stopped the playback and looked at the hawk, who was thoroughly upset. Janus shrugged and said, "Dirty fighting at its finest. Might I recommend you engage him with a gun?"

"Y-yes, sir. Absolutely."

"From a distance," Janus clarified.

"Yes, sir."

"If you engage him in a hand-to-hand fight, he'll find a way to cripple you in seconds. Don't give him that opportunity."

"Duly noted."

* * *

"What's in your pocket?" Fox asked.

"Remote activator for nanites," Ben said.

"What? How did you get that?"

"After Wolf and Leon were detained, a hawk walked in and tried to kill Wolf with this. So, long story short, I took it from him."

"And you said 'hawk,' right?" Fox asked, his tone of voice becoming slightly more interested.

Ben nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was a hawk. Or falcon, maybe."

"Wolf told me about a fixer for Janus who is a hawk," Fox pointed out. "You think they're the same?"

Ben glanced at Fox as he drove. "Could be." He returned his eyes to the road, which had heavier traffic than usual. He glanced at Fox again and asked, "You never told me. Who's Janus?"

"All I know is what Wolf told me. Oh, and those military dogs too. He sounds like someone who wants to stay behind the scenes while some kind of master plan plays out."

"Like a prescribed fire, maybe?"

"Yep," Fox said.

"What do you think he means by 'prescribed fire?'" Ben asked.

"Well, I know in forestry, every now and then intentional fires are set to clear out undergrowth. Keeps the forest ecosystem healthy without doing a lot of damage. Basically, it clears out any undergrowth that might choke out life."

Ben thought for a moment. He figured the destruction of the communications tower was part of this 'prescribed fire,' as it happened without warning. He wondered how that fit with the idea of clearing out undergrowth. Suddenly, his eyes brightened as he linked the two ideas together. "D'you think Janus is trying to cull out part of Corneria's population?"

Fox thought it over before giving an exasperated sigh. "That sounds exactly like what he's intending. And I bet he's not stopping with the communications tower."

They were silent for a moment, letting their conclusion sink in.

"Does Wolf know you have that remote?" Fox asked after a while. He and Ben had run out of things to say about Janus' plan.

"Yeah, I told him during questioning."

Fox rolled his eyes. "All right," he said with a sigh. "Convince me it was a good idea."

"To tell him about this?" Ben asked for clarification. Fox nodded, eyeing him with a sideways glance. "It was pretty much the first thing I said to him. He knows what's going to happen if he tries to renege on us."

"Rookie," Fox muttered. Before Ben could reply, he continued. "And now Wolf knows who to target if he _does_ renege." He paused for a beat. "None of this is black-and-white, kid."

"He was gonna find out anyway, once the nanites activate without Janus' fixer around. The way I had it figured, I tell him first thing to make sure he cooperates with us."

Fox snorted as Ben turned right, taking a roundabout path to the space port. "Kid, you don't understand. Wolf is probably the only individual in the Lylat System who Cornerian officials want to bring back capital punishment for. Now, tell me how he's going to willingly cooperate."

Ben quickly realized there wasn't a good argument for or against revealing the remote to Wolf. It was a pure grey area, and that's all he knew about it. "I have no idea if he will or not. I just thought telling him early would give him the best chance to help us."

Fox abruptly left it at that. They had reached the space port, and so their attention was pulled away from conversation. Both of them climbed out of Ben's vehicle and walked toward the entrance to the port. And as luck would have it, the first individual they saw was Peppy Hare.

"General, sir," Ben instinctively said with a quick salute.

Peppy waved him off. "Good to see you and Fox are okay," he said.

"Is Wolf still here?" Fox asked.

Peppy sighed. "Yes, but he's not in good shape right now. I asked a medical team to evaluate him, and they said there's not much they can do about his bleeding except for antibiotics and mild clotting agents."

"Antibiotics?" Fox asked.

"To prevent septic shock," Ben answered quickly. He had absorbed some medical knowledge simply by virtue of his father being a doctor.

"If you wanted to try talking to him, he's still in the holding room. The military doesn't want to leave him unattended."

Ben's stomach dropped slightly. He figured they needed Wolf to be mobile so they could find a way to Janus.

"I wanna talk with him and Leon," Fox said.

"All yours," Peppy replied. He led them into the room, shutting the door behind them.

Ben took one look a Wolf and almost didn't recognize him. Gone was the hardened, empty expression on his face. Replacing it was a more weary tone. His eyes were lined in a dull red crust, as was his mouth. Blood had also created a trail from his nose down his chin before drying. It looked like the medical team had stopped the bleeding, though.

"You here to kill us, teddy bear?" Leon asked dryly, directing his question at Ben.

Ben's eyes snapped toward Leon, inadvertently telling him he didn't like that moniker. "No," he said succinctly. Leon smirked at him.

"The communications tower fell," Fox said, breaking the moment between Ben and Leon.

"That's a shame," Leon said quietly. "You woulda thought the engineers building it would have done a better job."

Fox glared at Leon. "Someone blew it up."

"Someone connected to Janus, I presume?"

"Probably," Ben said.

"You are not part of this conversation, teddy bear," Leon said.

"Fox, would you ask Leon if he would be willing to help us get to Janus?" Ben asked in a louder-than-normal voice.

Fox paused, waiting to see what Leon would do. He simply kept his gaze centered on Fox. "Help us get to Janus," Fox repeated, finally resigning himself to Leon's game.

"I can't do very much tied to this chair," Leon said in an obvious attempt to escape.

"I know," Ben said. "Your mouth isn't tied up, though."

Leon grinned and shook his head. "Oh, teddy bear," he said mockingly. "You're so bad at this game. You're supposed to give me a convincing reason to help you."

Ben's jaw tensed slightly, a movement Fox caught in his peripheral vision. Removing Ben from this room would have resulted in zero cooperation from Leon. And Wolf wasn't coherent at the moment, so Leon was their only hope.

"You seemed awfully eager to do this when we were at Sargasso," Fox interjected before Ben could say anything.

Leon looked at Fox for a beat, then turned his gaze back to Ben. "You see? McClown is good at this."

"Or should I just let the Cornerian military keep watch over you?" Fox asked pointedly. "And I think I'll give the remote to one of the commanding officers. I'm sure he'll know what to do with it."

Fox noticed Leon's expression change slightly. Just barely, but it was enough to know he was onto something. "What remote?" he asked, trying to keep an innocent tone.

"Nothing," Fox said, quickly averting his gaze. "Forget I said anything." His tone made it clear the conversation between him and Leon was over.

Ben stayed silent, watching Leon's expression change. As altruistic as Fox was, he was also pretty decent at manipulating others.

"You let me go, and I'll get a hold of someone connected to Janus," Leon said. His tone had changed noticeably, his voice deepening into more of a serious expression.

"Microchip first," Fox said.

Leon rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. To Fox, that mean he begrudgingly agreed.

Fox turned toward Ben and motioned with his head toward the door. He started walking, Ben in tow.

"So, what?" Ben asked. "We get him microchipped, and then we turn him loose in the city?"

"No way," Fox said quickly. "He'll get arrested before he takes two steps. Everything needs to start here."

"And how will we know they're not manipulating us?" Ben asked.

"Wolf and Leon?" Fox asked.

Ben nodded.

"We'll start with the remote that hawk so kindly gave us," Fox said after a silence.


	21. Chapter 20

Fox and Ben exchanged glances one last time before reentering the interrogation room with Wolf and Leon. They were putting their trust in one of Fox's most hated enemies. Moreover, Ben had an empty feeling that he was on the wrong side of the battle. It was different, to say the least, asking a criminal for advice on how to stop someone they didn't even know. But if nothing else, they all knew Janus was some kind of megalomaniac. And he had resources, to boot.

They reentered the interrogation room. Ben produced a knife and waited for Fox to inject a microchip into Leon's upper left arm. He backed away as Ben moved forward and cut the zip ties binding Leon to the chair he was seated in.

Leon rose slowly to his full height, which was a good ten centimeters taller than Ben. He stretched his neck in a show of getting ready for a fight. He glared down at the bear before turning his attention to Fox with a sneer.

"How are you gonna help us get to Janus?" Fox asked as Leon's eyes met his.

Leon let the moment hang before glancing at Wolf and then Ben. He blinked. "Don't know." He began walking toward the door leading out when Ben pushed himself between Leon and the door. "You don't scare me, teddy bear."

Leon reached his right hand for Ben's throat, but before his hand could make contact, Ben's hands shot through the gap between Leon's middle and ring fingers. He grabbed onto Leon's fingers and wrenched them backwards, peeling them apart in the process. Leon's eyes went wide in pain as his knees buckled. Ben responded by pushing Leon's arm toward his shoulder and stepping forward, causing the chameleon to sprawl flat on his back in an effort to relieve the pressure on his hand.

"How about now?" Ben taunted. "Oh, and you'd better get this answer right, lizard. Unless you want to lose your right hand."

Leon looked at Ben and realized he was deadly serious. He arched his back on the floor and grimaced, as Ben was essentially locking him in place using his fingers. Ben simply responded by pulling his fingers a little further apart and dropping his right knee onto Leon's chest. "A little," he finally conceded while squirming in tortured pain.

_This kid knows how to fight_, Fox thought.

"I'm going to let you go and stand up," Ben said to Leon. "Don't try to do anything stupid, okay?"

Leon nodded in pain. He couldn't afford to provoke the bear anymore, considering he didn't have to go much further in order to break his fingers off or dislocate his shoulder.

As quickly as Ben had applied the pressure, he let it go. Leon let loose a short whuff, relieved to not be in pain anymore. And when he opened his eyes again, Ben was standing over him, blocking his only means of exit. He groaned slightly as he stood and glared at Ben.

"That was a dirty little trick," Leon said to Ben. The bear simply glared back at Leon in silence.

"You're going to help us get to Janus from here," Ben finally said after a long silence.

"And what happens if I don't?" Leon probed.

"I do absolutely nothing," Ben said with a surreptitious glance at Fox. Fox winked back at Ben, acknowledging him.

"That's right," Leon whispered. "Because you _can't_ do anything about this. You're asking for my help, but I don't see any gain in this for me."

"You help us, and I don't make the rest of your life miserable," Fox said from behind.

Leon rolled his eyes, partly because he knew Fox had a point. Star Wolf was almost hapless when it came to dogfighting against Fox, or any time Fox needed to infiltrate Sargasso. And the little victory they tasted a few days ago incapacitating Falco and Slippy would have only meant Fox would return with a vengeance.

Oh, wait. He was going to anyway. The Arwings were still hangared at Sargasso.

"What about the bounty on us?" Leon asked Fox, motioning between him and Wolf.

Fox raised his eyebrows in mild confusion. "I don't think you understand how this works. I can call off the bounty, but it doesn't mean all of Corneria will suddenly think you're a friend now."

Leon grumbled. Fox had another point. "All right," he conceded after a short silence. "I need a communications terminal."

"You're in the right place," a voice announced over the intercom. It was Peppy. The door leading out of the room buzzed, indicating it had been unlocked.

"Make sure he doesn't try to escape," Fox instructed Ben. Ben nodded and exited the interrogation room first. He was also the first to notice Peppy had a military dog with him. A greyhound he didn't recognize. He was highly decorated, so he must have been one of the top positions in his respective food chain.

As Fox and Leon filed into the panel area, Peppy addressed all three of them. "I've just been informed that Janus' next likely attack is the weather grid," he said matter-of-factly.

Fox's eyes brightened slightly. "What are we doing here then? We can get to the weather grid quickly, right?" he said, eager to prevent another attack on Cornerian soil. Fox took a step forward, but nobody else moved.

As much as Ben wanted to follow Fox's lead, he had a sinking feeling about what Peppy had just told them. Even though he was only supposed to be a pilot for the Cornerian air force and now Star Fox, he knew a startling amount about several topics in science and medicine. Thanks, of course, to his father, who was a doctor at the West Hill Hospital. But Ben had a particular fascination with meteorology, and the weather grid had piqued his interest from an early age.

It was colloquially known as the weather grid, but a more appropriate name would have been "weather management station." The denizens of Corneria often were under the assumption that the weather grid controlled the planet's weather. In reality, the grid could only manage certain aspects of it, such as adjusting the intensity of a rainstorm, for example.

Moreover, Ben knew actually controlling the planet's weather was nigh impossible. Adjusting the global average temperature or rainfall would take decades at the quickest. He was acutely aware that disabling the weather grid would have almost no effect on anyone. Nobody would notice. And if Janus was on some kind of radical campaign, wouldn't he want his actions to be noticed?

So instead of agreeing or disagreeing with Fox, Ben turned to the military dog and asked, "Sir, can you step inside with us?"

Fox immediately turned toward Ben with a confused look on his face, but somehow held his tongue. Ben looked back at Leon and held eye contact with him. A signal, telling Leon he thought this military dog would provide a link to Janus. Leon nodded surreptitiously at Ben, telling him he had received the message.

"If you have anything to ask, we can talk here," the greyhound said, pointing to the floor at his feet.

"Okay then," Ben said after a short pause. He was acting as if the decision to ask a few questions outside of the interrogation room was something that carried weight. In reality, he was trying to figure out which questions to ask so he could get a definitive link to Janus. "Isn't that kinda odd? Attacking a weather station?" he probed.

The dog shrugged. "I don't know. What if he caused rain for months at a time?"

"I…don't think that'll happen," Ben countered, turning slightly toward Leon for a brief instant. His hunch was starting to look more real.

"Well, that's just one outcome," the greyhound pointed out. "He could do anything with the weather grid, like create a heat wave. Or a tornado."

_Yeah, right_, Ben thought. "How certain are you about this being his target?"

"Ninety nine percent," the greyhound answered without missing a beat.

From behind the military dog, Ben noticed Leon's eyes widen. Two questions, and they had already found a link to Janus.

_Score,_ Ben thought. Janus had gone from simply a name to an individual he, Fox, Leon and Wolf could get access to. And even though he was about to turn on a fellow military cohort, the empty feeling was going to be lessened, simply because he didn't know this individual.

Ben made a show of pacing and said, "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the information. Mister McCloud has a few more questions for you."

Ben saw a flash of confusion across the greyhound's eyes. That conversation took maybe fifteen seconds. As the greyhound turned toward Fox, Ben made eye contact with Leon one more time. And nodded.

Leon's face broke into a grin as he silently stepped forward and whipped his arms around the greyhound's neck. His right arm tightened across the dog's neck, and his right hand latched into the crook of his elbow. Leon squeezed his arms together, using his left hand to push the greyhound's throat further into his arm.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Peppy shouted at Leon. Fox was still getting over the confusion of Ben vetoing a trip to the weather grid. Once his mind had registered what was going on, it was over.

There was almost no struggle. For someone who was so trained, judging by the amount of decoration on his uniform, Leon's attack took him completely by surprise. Within five seconds, the greyhound's eyes lost focus as consciousness slipped from him.

Leon bent down slowly to keep from injuring the greyhound and then instructed, "Get his feet. We're extracting everything he knows."

Ben grabbed onto the greyhound's legs and lifted with Leon, bringing him into the interrogation room.

"I'm sure you'd wanna hear this too," Ben said to Fox as he carried the military dog back into the interrogation room.

"Uh," Fox started. "Yeah, I would," he said, finally getting his mind into the present tense.

They set the greyhound on the floor, waiting for him to wake back up.

"Remove the zip ties from Wolf," Leon instructed Ben.

Ben took a deep breath as that same empty feeling returned when he put his faith into Leon's hands. Granted, it hadn't completely gone away yet, but when Leon instructed him to let Wolf free, that same pang reintensified. Without saying a word, he produced his knife and cut the zip ties binding Wolf's hands and legs to the metal chair. Wolf was still weak from the near-death experience with the nanites, so he simply looked at Ben for a second and then relaxed in that chair. Ben stowed the knife, knowing Wolf wasn't going too far any time soon.

"Everybody, get out of here," Leon announced. He paused, grinning, and then continued, "I want some time…alone…with our new friend." He emphasized the word "alone," which made Fox shudder on the inside. Peppy was probably twitching at the console on the other side of the one-way glass pane as well.

The other three filed out, Ben supporting Wolf on his shoulder. The door slid shut behind them as they turned to face the inside of the interrogation room. Peppy was shifting nervously on his feet and fidgeting with his hands.

"You're just gonna _let_ Leon torture him?" he asked after a silence.

Ben looked at Leon and the greyhound, who was just barely beginning to stir. He knew the greyhound would be confused for a few moments as he got his bearings back. He looked back at Peppy and nodded with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Peppy closed his eyes and pressed into his forehead with two fingers. "There's gotta be an easier way to get this information. Think about what this will do to your image throughout the Lylat System. You don't think you're gonna lose credibility after this?"

"I'm not here to politick with anyone," Fox said quickly, taking Wolf, Ben and Peppy by surprise. "I promised to protect Corneria and the entire Lylat System. I don't care how I do it, as long as everyone stays safe. And before you say anything, I've already failed at this. The communications tower blew up, and I couldn't do anything about it. So what makes you think I care about 'being pretty?'" he asked pointedly.

There was a long pause as Peppy gathered his thoughts. His own protégé and teammate had basically shoved everything he had been taught right into his face without a second thought.

Before Peppy could say anything, the speaker sounded with the greyhound's voice. "I got nothing to say." And it was silent after that. Leon was stock-still on his feet, glaring at the military dog, chipping away at his state of mind.

After a few moments, Leon slowly stepped toward the greyhound without saying a word.

"What the hell are you doing!?" the dog whispered, backing away slightly as he stood up. This caught the attention of the four standing outside of the interrogation room. Nobody said a word as Leon slithered his way toward the greyhound. His back was turned toward the glass pane, so it was difficult to determine his facial expression, but both Fox and Peppy had a good idea it was a stone-dead face. Something to unnerve his target.

The military dog uncomfortably backed away from Leon until he felt the wall behind him. And Leon was still advancing at the same pace. Everything about what Leon was doing told the military dog there would be no mercy. No levity. This was all business until he gave up what he knew.

Leon was still advancing when the greyhound planted his right foot against the wall and lunged in an attempt to tackle him. Leon simply turned out of the way and grabbed the dog's ear as he flew past. The dog's head whipped sideways from the force of two different pulling directions.

The greyhound screamed in pain as his ear was ripped halfway off his scalp. Peppy, Fox and Ben winced as they watched, but didn't say a word.

Leon shoved the dog to the ground using his head and continued his slow and steady advancement on the greyhound. He knew it would take a while to break him, considering his time in the Cornerian military, so he stayed patient, waiting for the information he needed.

The greyhound looked up and saw Leon's gangly form approaching, so he shifted himself to kick at Leon's knees. His boot thrust forward, completely missing Leon's right knee. He had seen that kick coming from a kilometer off and slowed just enough to avoid getting hit. As his leg straightened, Leon's pace suddenly changed into hyperdrive. He caught the greyhound's leg, stepped forward and kicked him in the groin, just hard enough to send the dog into agonizing pain. The greyhound doubled over on the ground, trying to wrench his leg from Leon's grasp, but Leon responded by squeezing the sides of his calf muscle together, eliciting another wave of screaming from the greyhound.

The military dog couldn't breathe fast enough to keep yelling, and the chameleon torturing him showed absolutely no signs of stopping any time soon. There was zero change in his demeanor, not even a glimpse of Leon showing he actually enjoyed this.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" the greyhound finally shouted in between gasps for breath as Leon kept a death grip on his calf. He squeezed tighter after a brief pause, sending a new wave of agony through the greyhound.

The dog responded by jerking his leg backwards, which was probably the last thing he should have done, as it raked his calf muscle against Leon's fingertips, causing more pain. The greyhound's lower leg tensed from the pain, beginning to cramp. Leon watched impassively as the military dog groaned again, his calf muscle tightening painfully without any control. Eventually, he tired of waiting and gave another kick to the dog's groin, making him yell out in excruciating pain.

From outside the interrogation room, Peppy was still shifting uneasily on his feet. He had his hands jammed into his pockets, clenched in fists, to keep himself from intervening over the intercom connected between the two rooms. Both Fox and Ben had given their okays for Leon to do this, which just made him even more uncomfortable. In the back of his mind, he thought Fox and Ben would defect to Star Wolf within the near future.

Several times, Peppy had to look away as Leon methodically brutalized the greyhound in front of him. The dog's voice was already spent, and he was getting exhausted from all the tensing he had done in response to Leon's pain compliance techniques. On occasion, the greyhound was able to actually hit Leon's arms or midsection to get him to stop briefly. But Peppy never saw any indication of Leon stopping his assault. He simply resumed what movement the greyhound had stopped, eventually getting through.

On one occasion, Peppy's right hand flew out of his pocket and came dangerously close to switching on the intercom as Leon reached around the greyhound's neck with his left hand and shoved his right index and middle fingers into the dog's throat. The gagging sound was unmistakable as the greyhound choked for a good five seconds. Leon let go, and the dog slumped slightly against the wall for about ten seconds before Leon started choking him again, this time holding longer. The military dog seemed to lose control of his movements as his arms flailed uselessly at his sides, a combination of exhaustion and panic.

As Leon let go, the dog slumped to the floor in resignation. He struggled to his hands and knees as Leon prowled to his right side.

"S-stop…" he managed to say. Leon simply walked closer and closed his hand around the greyhound's ripped ear, which had by now scabbed over. The dog groaned in pain as he felt Leon slowly ripping his ear from his head. "STOP!" Leon didn't respond, except by pulling upwards, bringing the dog's head up as well.

"I-I'M A DECOY!" he finally shouted hoarsely.

Leon stopped, holding his ear in place. There was just enough pressure to keep the greyhound in pain.

After a moment, Leon started pulling again, which was his signal for the greyhound to continue spilling the truth.

"J-Janus told me t-to give a false lead!" Leon stopped pulling again, conditioning the greyhound that he wouldn't have as much pain the faster he told them everything. "I-I don't know what his next target is…"

Finally, Leon said something. "Who could tell us?" He increased the pressure just slightly on the greyhound's ear.

"I-I don't know…" Leon wrenched on his ear. "I DON'T KNOW!" The military dog groaned in pain as he felt his ear slowly being ripped again. Regaining a semblance of control, he shoved his right hand into his uniform and brought out a communicator. He threw it on the ground for Leon to see, a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure on his head.

Leon slowly let the dog's ear go and picked up the communicator. "What if I crush your face with this?"

The greyhound knew Leon was being absolutely serious, and responded, "A hawk connected to Janus used this to tell me what to do."

Ben's eyes went wide. It was probably the same hawk who tried to assassinate Wolf.

"Should I get a hold of him from here?" Leon asked.

The greyhound nodded in exhaustion. "Y-yes, you can reach him."

Instead, Leon simply kept the communicator in his right hand. He had no intention of using it now. Even getting the greyhound to speak with that hawk was no good, considering the state he was in. His status as a decoy meant he was expendable to Janus.

"When did you last speak with him?" Leon asked.

"About two hours before the communications tower blew up," the dog answered quickly. Leon simply glared at him, waiting for him to continue. "All…all he told me was to throw Fox off. H-he sounded worried that Fox was…was gonna stop him and Janus before everything was complete." Leon's expression didn't change throughout the explanation. He only responded by kicking into the greyhound's elbow, knocking his arm out from underneath him. The dog grunted and collapsed on the floor with a whuff, the wind knocked from his lungs. "I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING!" he shouted in between gasps.

"No. You didn't," Leon quietly said back. He stepped forward, bringing his foot dangerously close to the greyhound's nearly-severed ear.

"ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT! JUST STOP!" he shouted.

Leon slowly brought his foot down, beginning to rip the dog's ear once more. When the greyhound tried to remove his foot, Leon responded by putting all of his weight on his foot. The dog shouted hoarsely in pain, feeling his ear hanging on by a thread.

"HE SAID SOMETHING ELSE!" the greyhound shouted in panic. Leon lifted his foot slightly. "He paid me for access to our store of nova bombs. He's gonna use them to attack the city somehow. Something about driving them into the hills, where the case-in had been restocked."

"What's 'case-in?'" Leon asked.

"I don't know, I swear! He only said something about a hazmat team removing what was underground."

All of the blood drained from Fox's face when he heard the word 'hazmat.' The cyanide leak that had occurred the day before they left for Sargasso was going to happen again, this time without any hitches. Nobody knew about the fact that the underground was once again a gas chamber in waiting.

Out of nowhere, a muffled _thunk_ sounded from just outside the door leading into the foyer of the space port. A small explosion some seconds later blew the door open. Ben, Fox and Peppy instinctively dove for cover, and the sound broke Leon's concentration as he looked toward the glass pane.

Wolf was last to react, still being weak from the nanites. As Ben looked up, he saw Wolf's head pitch backwards, his scouter covered by a dark-colored mass with a small timer embedded.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled. He scrambled forward and ripped the scouter and headgear off Wolf's face, along with a handful of grey fur, and threw it out the door. The headgear exploded in midair, raining shrapnel throughout the foyer. Against his better judgment, Ben leapt toward the door, slamming it shut. He knew he didn't have much time, because another bomb was probably going to embed itself in the door and blow a gaping hole in his side.

"Fox, you got a blaster?" Peppy asked quickly.

Fox didn't acknowledge the question. "Get Leon out of there, and stay clear of the door."

Peppy quickly punched the button granting access into the interrogation room. The door buzzed, sliding open just as another _thunk_ echoed into the room from outside. Ben grunted and leapt back from the door. Two seconds later, a deafening bang echoed through the foyer and interrogation room, blowing a fist-sized hole in the door's structure.

Fox drew his blaster and lay prone on the floor. He saw a brief color change from the drab off-white of the foyer to dark green as someone walked past the door. Whoever, it was, that individual stopped at the door, thanks to the shadow that was still visible through the hole from that bomb.

_Wait for it. Wait for it._ Fox focused his sight through the reticule on his blaster. He noticed the figure at the door move suddenly, either getting out of the way of something or setting up for a kick.

A second later, the door gave way as it was kicked in. Fox didn't even think when he pulled the trigger. His training had done everything for him. He felt the recoil from the blaster in his wrists, and a split second later, watched as a military dog stumbled backwards from the doorway, a bleeding hole torn into his midsection. The dog collapsed on his back after about five steps, his feet twitching, but otherwise motionless. A killing shot.

Just to make sure, Fox quickly scanned the area in the foyer he could see through the doorway and noticed it was empty, save for one dead soldier. The grenadier, whoever it might have been, was nowhere to be seen.


	22. Chapter 21

They stayed silent for a minute or so, nobody daring to breathe. Silence had fallen over the foyer in a matter of seconds, everyone rushing to evacuate as the sticky bombs exploded. The alarm klaxon had never gone off during the brief skirmish. That system was automatic, designed to blare out during trouble situations, so logic told Fox and company someone was thinking ahead by disabling the alarm.

Fox edged out of the doorway, checking all of his angles with his blaster. No activity, so he relaxed, holstering his gun, but not securing it. Just in case someone else decided to attack them.

"You okay?" Ben whispered to Wolf.

Wolf nodded slowly, not looking at Ben. He experimentally checked the area around his left eye, noting with dismay that he was bleeding around it. Pinpricks of blood formed a rough circle in the palm of his hand from where his fur had been ripped out.

From inside the interrogation room, the soldier moaned in pain. He was barely able to move from Leon's mental and physical beating. Leon glanced in his direction just to make sure he didn't attack anyone. He returned his gaze back to Fox.

Instinctively, Leon's right hand went to his waist, searching for a blaster. Fox was completely unaware of his intentions, and this would be the perfect time to off him. But there was nothing on his waist. He glanced at his belt just to make sure. His gun had been confiscated, so he let the moment pass. Nobody needed to know about it.

After Fox was satisfied the threats were gone, he turned back to the small crowd inside the console room. "Can we trace the conversation the soldier had with the hawk?" he asked.

Leon thought about answering "no," but decided against it. Both he and Wolf had the same goal of stopping Janus, killing him if necessary. And Fox had the exact same goal. He figured it wouldn't hurt him to cooperate, especially because he knew Fox would be on the warpath anyway about the Arwings.

"Yes," Leon finally said after a thick silence. "But we can only hear one side of the conversation."

"Which one?" Fox asked.

"What the hawk received."

"Can you trace the location?" Fox asked.

"So demanding…" Leon said sarcastically. Fox simply glared at him and let his right hand wander to his blaster. "Yes, I can," he said just before Fox's hand reached his gun.

"Let's hear it," Peppy said.

Leon fumbled with the communicator for a moment. He activated it and stopped in thought. "What time did the communications tower get destroyed?" he asked.

"Um…" Peppy started. "Yesterday, eighteen-thirty-six," he said, looking at a small notepad he carried with him.

"So that should put the conversation at about sixteen or so," Ben said without thinking.

Leon glared at him. "Why, thank you for assuming I'm stupid, teddy bear." Ben simply rolled his eyes in irritation. He adjusted a setting on the communicator, and after a moment, he placed the communicator on the console for everyone to see. "I think this is it. There are two conversations, both traced to the same location in the military compound. One of the calls was within the compound. The other went to the Luna Stone Hotel."

Peppy whipped out his notepad and jotted the hotel's name down.

"Here's the first one," Leon said. "This is the military compound."

A holographic image of a military dog's face appeared a small distance above the communicator. He was a Rottweiler. "Sanders," he said crisply. Probably his last name.

Pause.

"Yes, they're ready. Who am I waiting for?"

Pause. Fox scowled, because the name he likely needed was coming from the greyhound, whose speech couldn't be heard.

"Got it."

The military dog's face disappeared. Short conversation, but Peppy thought it most likely referred to the stash of nova bombs the greyhound spoke about earlier.

Leon removed the communicator from the console, narrating to fill the silence before displaying the other conversation. "And the second conversation at sixteen-oh-four…" After a few seconds, he frowned, trying to get the communicator to work. "…is deleted," he finally said.

"So all we have is a time and location stamp," Ben stated.

"That's it. He was probably instructed to delete the transcript," Leon inferred.

Peppy sighed audibly. Every time they seemed to be tantalizingly close to a lead, it disappeared. "The nova bombs are stored in two warehouses near here," he said with his eyes closed, trying to remember. "Both of them are within the military compound. One's about a kilometer away. The other is probably five or so."

Leon rolled his eyes in irritation. "Sounds great. You just let Fox and the teddy bear go there, and Wolf and I will be on our way." Both Peppy and Fox glared at Leon, telling him with their looks they needed to stay here.

"Do we split?" Ben asked after a silence.

"Yes," Wolf said quietly before anyone else could respond. "No weapons. Watch only."

"Just how bad do you want more people to die!?" Fox shot at him.

"McCloud, for being such an ace pilot, you really are pretty dumb," he said bluntly.

Fox whipped out his blaster, his trigger finger twitching. "I made the mistake of not blowing your head off at Sargasso…"

"What happens if you miss?" Wolf asked cryptically.

"What, now!?" Fox shouted.

Wolf rolled his eyes. "No, at the silos."

Fox paused, his eyes burning with rage. His mind was still working, so he let Wolf's question sink in. After a tense moment, he slowly lowered his blaster.

"That's right," Wolf said, voicing Fox's thoughts. "There's no way to keep those bombs from exploding if you shoot. And even if you _do_ shoot him, what about everyone else there? You kill the hawk, and where does that get you?"

Fox sighed in resignation. He was especially irritated that he couldn't disprove Wolf's statement about him being dumb. "All right. Ben and I will split up," Fox said quietly. "Wolf, you're with Ben. Leon, you're with me."

"Freeeeedom…" Leon whispered.

Ben got Leon's attention with a bit of movement and showed him a brief glimpse of the remote tied to the nanites in Wolf's bloodstream. He put it back into his pocket. As he removed his hand from his pocket, an idea hit him.

"Wolf, if you help us stop Janus, I'll pull some strings and get those nanites out of you," he said.

Wolf's attention snapped in his direction. He sneered. "You can do it all, huh?"

Ben noticed the eyepatch/scouter that was one of Wolf's signatures hid a normal eye. He had heard rumors that Wolf wore the accessory to hide a gouged-out eye, or that he was odd-eyed, or other variations.

"No, but I have connections."

Wolf let the moment hang. "Whatever. Don't waste your time, bear."

Fox scowled, knowing Ben's proposal had fallen flat. He silently took a deep breath and asked Wolf, "You healthy enough to go with us?"

"Yeah," Wolf mused.

"We'll visit the closer silo," Ben suggested.

Fox nodded. "Keep your scouter in transmission mode. That way, Peppy will see what you see."

Ben nodded and helped Wolf to his feet. He looked out of the doorway to make sure there were no threats. A few seconds later, he began walking, Wolf not far behind him.

Peppy gave Fox and Leon one last glance as they entered the foyer. He was soon left alone, the greyhound in the interrogation room shifting positions every now and then. Peppy walked out with the communicator, heading for a more secluded and clandestine area.

* * *

Walking at a moderate pace, Ben and Wolf reached their targeted silo within about ten minutes. Ben knew Fox and Leon would probably take just short of an hour to reach their position. He turned to Wolf and said, "I'm listening to you."

Wolf scoffed at Ben. "What do you mean?"

"You know more about staying hidden than I do. Show me how an expert does this," Ben said with a hint of provocation.

Without saying anything, Wolf glanced around, looking for cameras. He had probably already been spotted, but it was definitely odd that nobody had come to investigate yet. "You think the roof has a pressure sensor?" he asked.

A second later, Ben heard Peppy's voice crackle over his headset. "No sensors."

Ben shook his head.

"Gimme a boost," Wolf said.

Ben cupped his hands for Wolf to get a foothold and hoisted him up to the level of the roof. With some fuss, Wolf clambered his way onto the top of the storage area. The silo itself was across the walkway, so they'd have a good view of the proceedings if Janus' hawk decided on this area.

Wolf surveyed the surrounding area, his footsteps clunking on the metal below him. It didn't take long for him to find a couple of plastic drums. "Can you move those?" he asked Ben, pointing at the drums.

Ben walked over and pushed. The first one was empty and smelled rank. Probably a garbage container.

Wolf saw him react to the smell and rolled his eyes. That probably meant the other drum was also for garbage. "Turn it upside-down and put it here," he instructed. He pointed to an area near the front corner of the building.

Ben did as he was asked and got on top of the barrel. Wolf reached down and grabbed onto his arms.

"Kick it away from you, to your right," he said.

The drum toppled to the right and rolled in a loose circle before contacting the other barrel, where it stopped. It still looked somewhat suspicious, but not as obvious as if he'd left it for a climbing tool.

Wolf pulled Ben on top of the roof and instructed him to lay prone. From his position, Ben could see the top half of the entrance to the silo, which was enough for him to identify the hawk.

"Stay quiet, stay still," Wolf told him. Ben simply nodded.

They waited, the shadows lengthening as Corneria's twin suns moved toward the horizon.

Peppy had live feed of both Fox's and Ben's vantage points. Both of the duos had reached their respective silos and were ready for the supposed exchange that was due to happen. Both duos had decided waiting on top of an adjacent building was the sensible approach. Even though they had probably been seen by several cameras, it would take time for anyone to investigate.

From Fox's scouter, he saw a Rottweiler approach the targeted silo and wait. Probably Sanders. Minutes later, a hawk arrived, walking like he owned the place. Behind the hawk was a small delivery truck, silently hovering as it stopped at the silo.

The dog opened the doors and walked in. The hawk followed. They spoke no words to each other as they entered.

Over his radio collar, Peppy heard Fox whisper, "They're inside, and it looks like more than just nova bombs."

"What do you see?" Peppy asked.

"Uh…machine guns, missile launchers, and different types of bombs. This is all-purpose warfare here."

"Yeah, both silos are like that," Peppy responded. "Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"How should I know?" Fox asked. Peppy stayed silent, knowing his question to Fox was unwarranted.

_If there were a time for us to get busted on this, now would be great,_ Fox thought. If someone came to investigate, they'd be a witness to the exchange happening in front of him.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Peppy asked after a moment.

"No. They're facing the nova bombs…no, wait. Those…they're not novas, but they don't look like smart bombs either," Fox said.

Nova bombs packed a massive amount of explosives into a fairly small volume. They were designed for total annihilation with almost no fallout. Novas worked by fusing hydrogen into helium, and the brief triggering of that fusion created tremendous amounts of energy. Typically, the bombs were about a meter long and maybe half that in diameter. They were ellipsoid in shape with small tail fins to direct the bomb downward nose-first. These bombs were at most ten centimeters in diameter and mostly spherical with a small "foot" to keep the bomb in one place. Definitely not novas, and Fox knew smart bombs looked like truncated cones.

"They're not looking at the novas," Peppy confirmed. "They're CM bombs. Less destruction, higher death rates."

"What's a CM bomb?" Fox asked. He noticed Leon turn his head to look at him, but Leon's expression was also one of unfamiliarity.

"Check your scouter. I just uplinked the info to your headset."

As soon as Peppy had said that, several rows of text appeared in front of Fox's right eye.

_Critical mass bombs: low-yield explosives that force blocks of uranium salts together to achieve critical mass. A porous aluminum-tungsten carbide alloy is blast welded together during detonation to keep the blocks from separating. Neutron radiation is the primary mode of action in a CM bomb and stays active for over a month. Main use is as an area denial weapon._

Fox wondered if Ben or his dad had ever seen a case of someone with a case of neutron irradiation. He wondered what it would look like.

The way Peppy described the bombs' effects to Fox fit almost perfectly to what he had heard about Janus' master plan. A low-yield fission bomb could easily be used to eradicate large populations quickly. The radiation wouldn't spread from person to person. And the overall infrastructure of Corneria City would still be intact. These would be great area denial weapons, forcing long-term evacuations of Cornerians.

"They're making trips to the delivery truck," Fox whispered. Instinctively, his right hand shot toward his waist to grab his blaster. But at the last second, he remembered where he was and left the gun in its holster.

Fox and Leon watched as the hawk and military dog walked back and forth, carrying one CM bomb at a time using a dolly to transport the explosives. They took a few seconds once in the delivery truck, probably securing the bombs so they didn't roll around or collide with anything.

Leon nudged Fox with his left arm and pointed at printed numbers on the upper left corner of the trailer. Fox squinted in the low light, then quickly gave up and switched his scouter to low-light mode. The characters quickly became visible, and he read them out to Peppy.

"I think this is an ID. Four, four, one, one, zero, nine," he read slowly so Peppy could record the message.

"I'll check on it," Peppy said through the radio collar.

After what seemed like about ten minutes, the military dog closed the warehouse doors, and the hawk shoved the ramp back into the delivery trailer. Fox heard the sliding door slam shut, followed by a latching sound.

Fox waited, listening for the hollow whisper of the delivery truck's movement. But it stayed in place for too much time. He was beginning to get uncomfortable about the espionage, especially when he couldn't really do anything to stop this transaction.

Fox's lips blanched as a foreboding feeling shot through his midsection.

Just as he was about to turn around and check behind himself, he heard the delivery truck quietly moving to his right. Fox turned to check his back anyway and saw nothing of interest. But he couldn't shake that feeling that had coursed through him seconds ago.

"Fox, get out of there!" Peppy shouted over his headset. "Somebody triggered a silent alarm!"

"We're out," Fox whispered to Leon. "Alarm was triggered."

Fox saw Leon's eyes widen anxiously. Leon knew if he were caught, there'd be no hope for him to help Fox, Ben or Wolf stop Janus. He had already been taken into custody once, although he had gotten lucky and ended up under Peppy's eyes. But a second capture probably meant someone else. The Cornerian military wasn't stupid enough to send him straight back to Peppy a second time.

"Do we set one off now?" a voice asked from below.

There was a pause. "No. The death zone is within about half a kilometer. Just get out of here, let the military handle this. If you see McCloud trying to get away, shoot him."

_Oh, shit_, Fox thought. He pieced together what had happened in the last few seconds and realized someone had seen both him and Leon. His mind began racing through the options they had. Could they get out of there before more of the military arrived? Could they escape without the two individuals below them attacking? Fox scowled, realizing they didn't have much choice.

"Is it just two of them?" Leon asked, seemingly confirming what Fox was thinking.

"I think so," he whispered back. "Ready to fight and run?" Leon simply grinned, so Fox laid out the ground rules. "Get it done quickly, and we're gonna be out of here within a few seconds. If you feel like tormenting one of them, I'm leaving you behind," he said resolutely.

Leon was aware that Fox's tone was gravely serious, so he simply nodded.

Fox looked around him, searching for the quickest way off of the roof. He picked himself slightly off the metallic surface and sidled on all fours to his left. His left foot eventually found air, so he swung both of his legs over the edge and dismounted. Fox landed with a loud _thump_ he knew he couldn't do anything about, but he was ready to fight anyway.

Plastering his back to the wall, he waited just in the shadow of the building. An approaching shadow told him one of the individuals was approaching. He had a blaster out, and as he approached the corner of the building, Fox heard him breathing heavily. He was nervous.

A second _thump_ announced Leon dismounting from the other side of the roof. Fox watched the shadow on the ground whip his head around, startled by the noise. It caught his attention for only a second, but that was all that was needed for Fox to leap out of the shadows and pull the Rottweiler off balance using his gun as leverage.

The military dog yelped in surprise as he was jerked forward, Fox contorting his wrists so he couldn't aim at his chest. The military dog stumbled forward just as Fox grabbed behind his head and left shoulder. He brought his left knee up and thrust forward as he pulled the military dog's upper body down into the strike. Fox heard and felt the Rottweiler's breath explode from his lungs as he tried to bring his arms in to shield his chest from another hit. The Rottweiler tried to pull in a gasp of air, but was cut short by his own diaphragm, which was spasming out of control.

Fox yanked the gun out of his hands, but not before it discharged once, sending a blaster shot into a different building. The military dog lunged forward clumsily, blinded by pain and lack of oxygen. Fox simply spun in a circle to his right, and at the last second extended his left arm and connected with the back of the Rottweiler's head with a hammer fist.

The military dog was knocked out cold before his knees hit the ground. He spilled forward, burying his face into the pavement and sliding a short distance before his momentum stopped.

"Nice," Leon observed as he saw Fox finish off the Rottweiler.

"Where's the hawk?" Fox asked.

"He took off running. I'm not gonna chase after him, not when we need to get out of here."

Fox and Leon had only a short time to leave, unless they wanted to be captured again. The thought of having another shock chip embedded in his throat was definitely not something Fox looked forward to, so he motioned for Leon to follow. They left the area the way they had entered, walking briskly. They hadn't been gone from the weapons silo for more than about two minutes when floodlights began showing signs of life. From his days in the Cornerian military, Fox knew those lights took about a minute and a half to reach full power. Hopefully, he and Leon would be far enough away to avoid any trouble.

* * *

Peppy rubbed his forehead in frustration. He was proverbially trapped between a rock and a hard place. He should have told Fox to stop the weapons exchange, but he knew Wolf was right about the risk of a detonation. The risk was further magnified with the presence of so many other CM bombs nearby. If one of them exploded, the neutron fallout would trigger nuclear decay of the uranium in other bombs. Translation: chain reaction.

"Look, we can track the delivery truck. You have its ID," Fox pointed out.

"McCloud, I'd bet my life they switched trucks," Wolf countered.

"That's exactly what they did," Peppy said. "I'm running a trace now, and that truck hasn't moved for the better part of an hour."

Fox groaned. "So now I'm responsible for all the radiation in Corneria City. Just. Fucking. Great."

"How bad could the radiation poisoning be?" Ben asked, trying to alleviate the situation. "People just can't go into those areas, right?"

Peppy fixed Ben with a severe look. "You have no idea, Kaspar."

"Okay, so I don't. But _you_ do," he said pointedly.

Peppy sighed. "The CM bombs are weapons I don't want around because they're so dangerous. If anybody is within the death zone of an explosion, they won't know it. But the second they're irradiated with neutrons, they're dead, and you can't do anything about it."

"It's that fast?"

Peppy shook his head. "Death takes a couple of days. There's a 'walking corpse' phase at this point. Basically all the cells in your body can't divide anymore, but they still function. So as they get used up, they slough off your body."

"But that's why we have transfusions and skin grafts, right?"

Peppy paused, trying to explain it as clearly as he could. "I've only seen one case of neutron poisoning. It was an underling for Andross several years ago. He had gone to a hospital for burns from the contents of a CM bomb that had hit critical mass. His burns were getting worse by the hour, and he had started vomiting." He paused. "Well, that night, he lapsed into a coma as his hair and skin began falling off his body. Fluids were leaking from all over him, and there wasn't a thing the staff could do to contain it. They couldn't replace his fluids or skin fast enough. So within a night of not feeling well, he became a liquefied husk of bone and died that way."

"You're joking," Ben said incredulously. He tried to say something else, but no other words came to his mind.

Peppy shook his head slowly. "All it takes is one of these bombs to detonate in a crowded area. After that, everybody on Corneria will see their effect and how horrible a death from neutron radiation is. Fear will take care of the rest."

Of the five of them, Wolf was probably the one who was most affected. He was looking down, trying to avoid showing anyone how sickened he felt from what Janus had seemingly planned. Prescribed fire, indeed. This was mass murder, and if word got out that he was semi-free on Cornerian soil at the time the bombs went off…well, he mused that capital punishment would be reinstated for both him and Leon. And a mass-murderer would probably end up walking free, ready to repeat this cycle in a few years' time.

Against his better judgment, he spoke what he was feeling. "I would really like to put an end to Janus. And if that means killing him, then I'll do it."

The other four in the area looked at Wolf with confused faces. Normally, he'd be fairly neutral about events like this. But something had overridden his sense of self-preservation.

Ben took a deep breath. Wolf might have been a hardened criminal, but he was showing a much softer side. Might as well take advantage of it while it was there. "Wolf, you help us with this, and I'll make sure you get rid of the nanites in your blood," he said, echoing his proposal from earlier.

Wolf looked at him for a beat. "Deal," he said quietly.

"And what about the bounty on us?" Leon asked Ben quickly.

"Bounty's gone," Fox said before anyone could object.

There was a thick pause in the area. "No problems on my end," Peppy finally said.

"All right," Fox said. "Let's get a trace of any delivery truck that stopped near the one we saw tonight. See if we can survey the cargo. We'll intercept them and clear the bombs out. And then we'll check out the Luna Stone Hotel."


	23. Chapter 22

"No, everything is _not_ fine. You told me McCloud wouldn't interfere."

Janus was beginning to show a little bit of frustration. Fox McCloud was doing a phenomenal job at disrupting every single step toward his vision of what Corneria should be. He hadn't completely upended anything yet, as the CM bomb loading was successful. But continued interference would probably turn things for the worse.

"Please, for the love of everything that is good and holy, tell me you switched the trucks," Janus said through the communicator.

"Switched trucks, split the shipment into four others downstream. Each truck has five CM bombs. We're waiting for your word on deployment."

"Not now," Janus said. "Tell me, what does 'splitting downstream' mean?"

"After switching all of the cargo to a different truck, we set up four new rendezvous points and split the bombs into four groups. Each one went to a different unmarked vehicle. So the original truck from the military compound and the one we switched to afterwards are going to be dead ends in case McCloud decides to investigate."

The hawk saw Janus's head nod in thought. "Good. Wait on deployment until later. For now, we have a more pressing matter."

"Yes, sir?" the hawk said.

"Meet me at the Luna Stone Hotel. We'll discuss it face-to-face. This information is too sensitive for an exchange with communicators."

"My ETA is one hour," the hawk said.

Without a reply, the hawk's communicator shut off. Janus had abruptly disconnected the line.

The suite he was located in was very spacious, thanks to the resources he had accrued over the years in preparation for these few weeks. Janus walked from the dining room into one of the two bedrooms, where a blue vixen was hooked to a bevy of fluid-filled bags and handheld medical instruments. One of them was to measure heart rate. Another was for blood pressure. Those two indicators worked in tandem. Blood pressure falls, and heart rate increases to deliver oxygen. A living body needed those backups to keep itself alive. And they were excellent indicators of failing health.

For some reason, the girl had suddenly been placed at death's door. And Janus knew why. Somehow, nanites had ravaged her blood vessels. He hadn't noticed because she was silent throughout the attack. Maybe this vixen's telepathy also gave her mental fortitude. Whatever the case, he was shocked to see her in such a dire state.

He had connections. Doctors and specialists in different hospitals around the city. They had to limit their visits to make sure nothing appeared conspicuous. The vixen was administered mild clotting agents, as the nanites' function couldn't be reprogrammed once in her body. They were one-track machines. Already programmed to eat away at blood vessel walls, she needed a new batch to quickly repair the damage. But a new batch couldn't be infused until the others were out of her system. That required dialysis, and there was no handheld machine that could perform the outrageously precise dialysis she needed.

In short, a hospital would have the proper equipment. And how would someone explain _that_ story to the doctors? Janus knew infusion with nanorobotics for a purpose other than a treatment for a medical condition was punishable with jail time, hard labor, pretty much everything under the Lylat System's twin suns excluding the death penalty. There would be no trial. Such was the severity of the crime.

But most importantly for Janus, he no longer had access to her telepathic skills. She couldn't tell him where Fox was.

This most recent visit from a doctor also happened to have intel on two of the other Star Fox members.

"Falco is due to be discharged at any time," the doctor told him in front of Krystal. She was asleep, bordering on unconsciousness, as was normal for her over the past two days. "He's in a brace, so recovery should take about two weeks for him."

"And the frog?" Janus asked.

"Slippy is going to be there much longer. He has already been stabilized and fitted with a prosthetic arm, but he has to learn how to use it. Until he shows he can regain control of his motions, he'll be doing PT at the West Hill Hospital. My guess is at least a month."

"But he's awake, yes?"

The doctor nodded. He was a weary rabbit who looked ready to retire soon. "Awake, alert, and he has started PT."

"No _mishaps_ during surgery?" Janus asked pointedly. He emphasized the word "mishaps," as if it had a deeper meaning for the surgeon at this moment.

"You know I can't do that," the rabbit said. "I've told you this before. If you're that bent on carrying through with 'turning Corneria into utopia,' get it done now. You've had plenty of time for this."

Janus turned to face the doctor directly. He rose to his fullest height, which visibly intimidated the doctor. Janus was both tall and built, his image burning itself in the rabbit's mind.

"Find a way to make sure Falco and Slippy don't leave West Hill," he whispered menacingly, glaring directly into the doctor's eyes.

The rabbit quickly broke the staring contest, obviously uncomfortable with Janus' penetrating gaze. "I-I'll keep them there…" he said with a slight quaver. "B-but I…I won't do anything to hurt them."

Without waiting for Janus' reply, he turned and left the suite.

Janus' jaw tightened. With a frustrated groan, the ram strode toward the dining area again and picked up his communicator. He fumbled with the setting for a moment until he found the contact he wanted. Setting the transmission to "MESSAGE ONLY," he activated the communicator.

"A rabbit who is a doctor at the West Hill Hospital is no longer of use to us. He is the prosthetics specialist who replaced the Star Fox frog's arm."

Janus deactivated his communicator and slammed it down on the table in front of him. If it wasn't Fox McCloud and his uncanny ability for disruption, it was his own comrades.

* * *

"Explain," Janus said tersely, motioning toward Krystal, who was still lying in the bed, still attached to instruments, IV lines and breathing tubes.

The hawk looked toward the blue vixen, noticing her eyes appeared sunken even though they were closed. He could barely see the rise and fall of her chest. She appeared to be nearly lifeless, and he was unaware as to why.

"I…I'm not sure," the hawk stammered. "I thought she had been near you."

"She was. Why does her blood have nanites in it?" Janus asked pointedly.

The hawk felt his stomach drop. He suddenly remembered his encounter with this girl at Sargasso. "Oh," he said quietly.

"Oh, what?"

"Um, sir…" the hawk said nervously. "I…uh…shot her with tranquilizer that had the same batch of nanites as Wolf…" he trailed off.

The hawk saw it in Janus' eyes. His glare became more intense within a second. "So anytime the nanites in Wolf O'Donnell are activated, the ones in her are too," Janus translated for him.

The hawk nodded in silence. Any word he spoke would probably be his undoing, so he simply hoped Janus would spare his life.

"You do understand we are immobile with her in this state, correct?" Janus said.

"Yes, sir," the hawk said, trying to agree with Janus. He was trying to appease him, but it didn't seem to work in the slightest. The hawk thought Janus might start shooting lasers from his eyes soon.

"So, should someone arrive to investigate, such as…oh, maybe _Fox McCloud_, what do you think will happen?"

"What would happen if I took care of him?" the hawk asked.

Janus looked toward Krystal for a split-second. He returned his gaze to the hawk, just as intense as previously. "You haven't shown me you can do that. Now answer my question."

The hawk shrugged, trying to avoid answering the question Janus had posed to him. This was suicide, and there was no way out of it. He sighed and finally answered, "He'd have no remorse for anyone."

"No one," Janus said, echoing his underling. "Fox comes along, does his thing because _he is that good at it_, and Corneria stays overrun with population. I'm trying to help this planet, and you don't seem to agree with me."

"Sir, I do agree with you. But you've given me mixed signals."

"How?"

"You originally wanted Star Fox out of the way. That was the Sargasso assignment. He came back, and you said you wanted him dead. And just before we acquired the CM bombs, you told me you wanted him to see the new beginning."

Janus scowled. "Perhaps you're not completely ignorant after all," he mused. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly through his mouth. "Fox is too clever to capture. He always finds a way out or has help. So get rid of him. And I'm not going to give you any other directives about him. Show me you're just as clever as he is," he said daringly, pointing at the hawk.

"Y-yes, sir. But what about the rest of the Star Fox team? What about Wolf and Leon?"

Janus shrugged impassively. "Your discretion." He paused in thought and ambled toward the dining room once more. "I'll send word when you are to deploy the CM bombs. You have the coordinates for each location, correct?"

"Yes, sir," the hawk said.

"Good. By the time the last bomb has detonated, Fox and company need to be dead." The hawk took a deep breath. His so-called discretion about the company around Fox had been replaced by a directive.

"Yes, sir," the hawk repeated. He left the suite without another word.

* * *

"The truck is still inactive," Peppy said while looking at a datapad. He was running a trace on the ID Fox had provided him, and the truck hadn't moved for several hours. "They must've switched the bombs to a new truck once they found they were compromised."

Fox glanced at Wolf for a brief second but didn't make eye contact. His body language didn't seem to have that told-you-so expression.

"What about running traces on the bombs?" Ben asked. "The tracking devices can't be removed without deactivating the bombs."

"I already tried that," Peppy said. "The traces are encrypted, and I don't have the clearance to obtain the device for that."

"For what?" Leon asked.

"There's a device that decrypts the tracking on the bombs. I need that to be able to trace them."

"You're telling me you can't get that information _as a general?_" Wolf asked incredulously.

Peppy fixed Wolf with a long glance. "Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. My area is space flight and applications. I have no jurisdiction over terrestrial weapons."

"Can you trace any delivery trucks that stopped close to that one?" Ben asked quickly, motioning toward the datapad in Peppy's hands. He was looking for a solution to the problem at hand, rather than lamenting the fact that Peppy was unable to follow the collection of CM bombs.

Peppy looked up from the datapad, staring at the wall in thought. He shrugged. "Yes, but it's a long shot." Instead of discussing the difficulty of this task, he buried himself in the datapad, tapping it several times with the stylus in his right hand. Peppy furrowed his brow in concentration as he followed the truck's path to when it might have intercepted another truck. After about five minutes of waiting, he finally looked up and said, "I got another one. But I'm not sure this'll work either."

"Because…" Fox prompted.

"The truck's been inactive for over three hours. It stopped near the compromised truck for thirty-one minutes, enough time to transfer a large load of material. The weight profile at that time shows an increase in cargo in…hold on," Peppy said. He traced his finger over the datapad, counting the step changes in the weight profile. "I think it's twenty-one different stages. They're all the same weight, so it was probably twenty-one of the same object."

Fox grimaced and exhaled through his teeth. "Those had to be the bombs," he said. "And you're saying the truck has been inactive for a while?" Peppy nodded without a word. Fox paused, lost in thought.

"Don't do it, McCloud," Wolf warned. "I woulda set a trap if I were in that position."

"Okay, so let's assume the truck is rigged," Ben said. "Can you do the same thing for _that_ truck?" he asked.

Peppy nodded again. "It'll take a while, but I can find all the trucks that stopped near that one. You can head to the hotel and check on that lead while I get you the information." After a moment, he mumbled under his breath, "I really wish we had Slippy here to do this."

"Luna Stone, it is," Fox breathed. "How do we wanna do this?"

Ben stepped forward slightly. "I'll drive you over there, then I can return to the space port. We can follow up on the bomb leads."

Fox shrugged. "Are you ready?"

"Always."

The ride to the Luna Stone Hotel was spent in silence. As Ben drove into the heart of Corneria City, one piece of the skyline was conspicuously missing. The interplanetary communications tower really had been leveled. Approximately three city blocks were cordoned off to allow rescue workers room to salvage those who were still trapped.

Fox glanced out his window and saw the streets leading to the tower were blocked. He sighed as the reality of the footage he had seen of the tower hit him. "It really went down," he said quietly.

Ben nodded, not saying anything.

Their view was soon blocked by other towers looming overhead, the space between them beginning to feel a little more cramped than usual. This was the unmistakable feeling of being inside a metropolis, where everything is laid out in city blocks, the towers are massive, and space is at a premium.

Fox watched the denizens of the city amble or drive to their destinations. It was eerie knowing at any moment a CM bomb could be planted here and detonated. He shuddered on the inside and wondered if Peppy's description of the effects of these bombs really could happen. They sounded a little too far-fetched to be real, although he didn't doubt that the bombs could kill. If the effects _were_ as graphic as what he had heard, he wondered how quickly all of Corneria would lose its collective sanity.

"The entrance is right there," Ben said as he pulled to a stop. He pointed at a set of double doors etched with intricate patterns on the steel and glass panes. In an aristocratic script font "Luna Stone Hotel" was carved and embossed above the doors.

"Thanks, kid," Fox said without much thought. He exited Ben's car and said, "Let me know if you get anything on the bombs."

"Will do," Ben replied. He drove away seconds after Fox closed the door.

Fox began walking toward the main entrance to the hotel, wondering what he might find in there. In his mind, he was piecing together a script to follow. The only piece of information he had was from Wolf at Sargasso, when he said Krystal wasn't there because of Janus' fixer. He guessed her telepathic skills would probably come in handy for Janus, so it stood to reason Janus would keep her close by.

The Luna Stone Hotel was about as extravagant as anyone could imagine. There were certain locations in Corneria City where the residents joked about feeling their money disappearing by the minute as they walked in. The Luna Stone Hotel was one of those places. The hotel had some kind of aura about it, where everything seemed to move at a slower pace. Several people were walking to and from places within the lobby, but it never felt busy or crowded. Occasionally, the elevators would announce their arrival to pick up passengers with a soft chime, and beyond that, the white noise from the people echoed slightly.

Almost as soon as Fox walked in, he was greeted by one of the bellhops, an immaculately groomed snow leopard in a black suit that was just as neat. "Welcome, sir," he said robotically. "Check in is to your left."

Fox continued walking past him and nodded slightly. He wondered how much the employees here knew about the communications tower. Probably a lot, considering how close they were to its former location.

As Fox entered the lobby, he noticed the entire hotel was set up to be relaxing. There were almost no bright colors anywhere, and everything around him looked as spotless as the bellhop's outfit. To his left was the check-in counter, which was a marbled white color. He casually strode toward a waiting attendant, a dark-feathered pheasant, who looked very similar to Falco.

"May I help you, sir?" he asked just as robotically as the bellhop. So far, those were two individuals who either didn't recognize him or had suppressed their reactions. It was probably the latter, considering the glamour of the hotel itself.

"Uh, yes. I'm Fox McCloud," he said quietly, not wanting to garner extra attention. "I'm checking on a teammate who's been missing for a few days."

"So what can I do for you?" the attendant asked.

"I last heard she was in this hotel, and I'd like to make sure she is safe. All of us are worried about her because we haven't heard anything from her recently."

"If you have a picture of her, I might be able to help," the attendant told him.

"Sure." Fox pulled out a wallet and produced a small picture of Krystal he kept with him. Even though she had left his life all those months ago, she still could help him.

The attendant gazed at the picture for a few seconds and then turned back to Fox. "I'm certain I saw her enter…I think it was two days ago," the attendant said. "She was accompanied a hawk."

_Score._ The shot in the dark worked. Fox kept as flat an expression as he could. The attendant had made a nice admission by saying Krystal was here with a fixer for Janus. "Really?" he asked, trying to cover up his interest. "Is there any way you could send for her? I really want to make sure she's okay."

The attendant signaled for a bellhop to accompany Fox. Footsteps clunked on the tiled floor as she approached. Fox turned slightly and saw she was a light-furred squirrel, shorter than he was.

"Can I help you?" she asked robotically.

"Mr. McCloud is looking for a teammate. She's in suite sixteen-oh-nine. He says he wants to check on her to make sure she's okay."

"Yes, sir. Right this way, please." She began striding toward the elevators, Fox struggling at first to keep up. The bellhop pressed a button to call an elevator, and the doors to her left slid open. She walked in, Fox not far behind.

Fox watched as she pressed the button marked for the sixteenth floor of the hotel. Within seconds, the elevator did as was described and began rising steadily toward the marked floor. Fox felt his ears pop slightly as they neared their destination. The entire time, the bellhop stood at attention just to the right of the doors. She never exchanged words with Fox or even looked at him.

A soft chime met his ears, signaling they had reached the correct floor. The doors slid open once more, and both the bellhop and Fox walked out.

The bellhop began striding again, Fox having to walk quickly to stay only a couple of paces behind her. She turned right, rounding a corner in the hallway and disappeared briefly from view.

Fox made to turn around the same corner and stopped dead in his tracks, his breath seizing in his lungs. He had come face-to-face with a dark-feathered hawk, presumably the same one the attendant had mentioned. And it was definitely the same hawk he had seen trying to assassinate Wolf.

Before he could react, the hawk pointed a blaster at Fox's midsection and pulled the trigger.

Panic surged through Fox's mind as everything took him completely by surprise. He slowly looked down and found a bleeding hole punched in his abdomen. He tried to move away from the hawk, but his legs gave out, spilling him onto the red-carpeted floor.

Fox tried to shout, hoping to get anyone's attention in this emergency. But he could only groan as his body disobeyed him. He writhed on the floor in agony as the hawk watched him impassively. And within a few seconds, everything faded to black.


	24. Chapter 23

Peppy was concentrating so hard on the datapad in his hands that he was dangerously close to developing X-ray vision. In reality, his eyes were beginning to fatigue just slightly, but time was working against him. Ben, Wolf and Leon needed to know the locations of the CM bombs before any of them detonated. And Fox was investigating any leads in the Luna Stone Hotel.

"Okay, that's two of the trucks," Peppy said. "I can give you the locations now so that you can check them out."

"We're ready when you give us the word," Ben said, speaking for the three of them.

"The locations will be uploaded to your…" Peppy froze mid-sentence. His eyes were caught by an alert message that had just popped up flashing red on his datapad. He quickly tapped the message with the stylus.

_Fox McCloud: Life signs critical._

There were no other words. No statistics had been delivered yet.

The microchip in Fox's arm served not only as his beacon, but it also kept a close watch on his vitals.

"Oh, shit," Peppy mumbled under his breath.

"What is it?" Wolf asked.

Before Peppy could say anything, Fox's vitals came pouring in and added themselves to the alert message.

_BP: 90/70. HR: 131 bpm._

_BP: 87/69. HR: 133 bpm._

_BP: 85/67. HR: 137 bpm._

A final message appeared, and the screen locked itself in red.

_OPEN ABDOMINAL WOUND DETECTED.  
_

"Oh. Shit," Peppy said again. He looked at Ben and said, "Fox is losing blood fast. Luna Stone Hotel. Now." Without another word, he quickly strode out of the room the four of them were sheltering in.

_Don't ask questions,_ Ben thought to himself. They were already running out of time thanks to the bombs, but they had almost no time left if Fox was to survive whatever had commanded Peppy's attention like it did. He, Wolf and Leon followed suit. Briefly, Ben wondered if Fox had been injected with nanites.

Ben and Peppy reached their respective vehicles at a near sprint. Wolf stayed with Ben, and Leon went with Peppy. They hurriedly drove out onto the main road leading into the heart of Corneria City, where the Luna Stone Hotel was located. And as luck would have it, the West Hill Hospital wasn't more than about three kilometers away from the hotel.

Ben placed every shred of faith he had in Wolf as he dug his communicator out from his flight jacket. He tossed it into Wolf's lap and began dictating instructions for him to follow.

"Contact Theo Kaspar. Once he answers, tell him Fox is losing blood quickly. We'll be at the emergency receiving bay within ten minutes."

"You want _me_ to tell someone about an emergency with Fox?" Wolf asked incredulously. "Who's gonna believe-"

"Just do it!" Ben shouted. He continued driving, traffic thankfully light today.

Wolf fumbled with the communicator in his hands and quickly found the contact information for Theo Kaspar. He quickly read about his credentials, realizing he was a doctor at a hospital. In the center of the communicator's top surface was the word "CONTACT" displayed as a hologram. Wolf pressed the communicator on the word and waited, his heart rate increasing slightly.

A few seconds later a holographic image of a bear who looked very similar to Ben appeared. "Who are _you_?" he asked quickly, his eyes narrowing.

"Theo. I have Ben with me. We're going to get Fox McCloud at the Luna Stone Hotel."

"Are…are you…Wolf O'Donnell?" Theo asked after a short silence.

"Fox is losing blood!" Ben shouted while driving. He turned left, nearly making contact with the back side of Peppy's SUV. "Have the emergency bay ready in ten minutes!"

"Y-you don't have my son hostage, do you?" Theo asked, his face appearing worried through the holographic projector.

"Look, Theo. Just do as your son says," Wolf commanded, his eyes darting toward Ben. His suspicions were confirmed. Ben was indeed Theo's son. "We don't have time for small talk."

"I-I'm headed for the emergency bay now," Theo said with a pronounced quaver in his voice.

"Good." Wolf deactivated the communicator without another word.

A block away was the Luna Stone Hotel. Within a minute, both Ben and Peppy had pulled into the parking lot and jumped out. Wolf and Leon were close behind.

* * *

The hawk stood over Fox as blood oozed out of the hole in his midsection, darkening his jumpsuit and creating a stark contrast to the white of his flight jacket. The bellhop had already begun to stagger away, heading for the nearest restroom to be sick. She had done her job in delivering Fox to Janus, but she wasn't prepared for the bloodbath that was to follow.

"Fox McCloud is in the hallway," the hawk said through a radio collar. "What do you want to do with him?"

A few seconds later, a door leading into a suite clicked open and a ram walked out. He saw the situation, quickly deducing that his fixer had shot Fox in the gut.

"I told you to kill him," Janus said quietly. "Finish the job." He walked back toward the door of their suite and was about to push it open.

"As long as you're not worried about cleanup…" the hawk said nervously to the air in front of him. He slowly raised the blaster from his side and pointed it at Fox's snout. The hawk grimaced slightly as he braced himself and pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked, but didn't fire. The hawk sighed in irritation. Of all the possible times for a blaster to malfunction, it had to choose this particular time.

"Just finish the job somehow," Janus said tersely. "I don't care how you do it. Choke him, beat him to death. It doesn't matter." Janus pushed the door open and walked back into the suite. The door clicked closed behind him.

The hawk reholstered his blaster. Maybe he could figure out why it had misfired, but for now, he'd have to do this job with more effort. He strode up to Fox's head and kicked the bottom of his jaw with his right boot. It connected with a sickening crack, Fox's jaw shattering upon impact. His body twitched in pain, but he made no sound or effort to avoid any of the strike. As the hawk prepared for a second strike, he noticed Fox was still breathing, but the reason for noticing was an intense stridor. He paused, listening to Fox suffer in his unconsciousness. Every time he inhaled or exhaled, a wheezing sound came from his mouth. Given enough time, Fox would probably succumb to blood loss or asphyxiation, but the hawk needed to end it now.

He lifted his right foot and prepared to stomp down on Fox's snout. Just before he started the downward motion, a blaster shot rang out, the blast traveling between the sole of the hawk's boot and Fox's snout. The hawk panicked and missed Fox with his strike, his right foot ending several centimeters on the left side of his head.

"Get Fox out of there," a voice said.

The hawk looked up to find none other than Wolf O'Donnell and Leon Powalski. They were accompanied by Peppy Hare and that damned bear who had stolen the remote from him. The bear was pointing a blaster at the hawk's midsection, ready to fire.

He glared at the four of them and said quietly, "You take a step forward, and I crush his throat."

"What if I do this first?" Ben asked daringly. He pulled the trigger on his blaster, intentionally missing the hawk on his right side. But the hawk responded the way Ben had wanted and dove away from Fox. The blaster shot tore away part of the wall. For such a nice hotel, it was a shame to destroy it like this.

"He's mine," Ben whispered maliciously. He removed his blaster and shoved it into Peppy's hands. Peppy nearly fainted as he realized his own recruit was heading into this fight empty-handed. He was seeking revenge, and there was no stopping Ben.

Fox was Ben's teammate, just like the pilots who had lost their lives in that Anglar attack. But this time, Ben was going to do everything in his power to make sure he didn't lose another teammate.

Ben strode forward, aiming a strike toward the hawk's throat. He flexed only the second and third joints of his fingers to ensure that if he hit true, his hand would fit more easily into the gap between the hawk's chin and chest.

The hawk ducked Ben's salvo and dove forward. He grabbed onto Ben's legs and plowed into his knees with his right shoulder, driving himself forward by digging his feet into the carpet. Ben saw it coming and crouched slightly. He absorbed the force of the impact and let himself fall backwards into a sitting position. He let himself get taken down, but that was fine. He had momentum on his side. He knew the hawk could only achieve an ankle lock, and such a movement took time to accomplish. It was much more time than Ben needed to shake him off.

As Ben sat down with the hawk clinging tightly to his lower legs, he saw his opening. Ben clapped his hands over the hawk's ear openings, eliciting a pained shout from his adversary. Without stopping to think, he whipped his hips to his right and reached over his chest with his left arm, using the momentum to pin the hawk underneath his knees. The hawk grunted in surprise as his legs flopped noisily on the floor.

The hawk let go as he felt the pressure of Ben's body weight collapse on his chest. Even though his head was ringing in considerable pain, his right fist shot upward in an attempt to hit Ben in his groin.

Ben saw the attack just in time. He felt the hawk's fist brush the fabric on his jumpsuit just as he shoved the hawk's arm down onto his chest with an open handed block.

_My turn,_ Ben thought. Pinning the hawk's arm in place, he plastered his chest to the hawk's and sprawled. His right knee ended between the hawk's legs, and Ben brought his knee back up to his chest. He only got so far before the hawk's groin got in the way.

The hawk's beak opened wide as he shouted in pure agony. Everything Janus had told him about this bear's fighting style was true. It took almost no time for the bear to essentially cripple him. And given the amount of time it would take him to get his bearings back after that knee strike, the bear would be long finished with killing him.

As the two of them fought, Peppy and Wolf team-carried Fox to the elevator. Leon was left standing in mild shock as he watched Ben completely brutalize a very competent fixer for Janus. And he was enjoying every second of it.

Leon was so enraptured with the fight that he failed to notice a tall and well-built ram quietly walk out of a nearby suite. The door closed without a sound, and the ram walked away, Leon, Ben and the hawk none the wiser.

The hawk haphazardly tried to shove his fingers into Ben's eyes in an effort to get some breathing room. Ben simply responded by tucking his chin and slamming his forehead down into the hawk's chest, using the avoidance as another attack. He knew the hawk was at least somewhat savvy at fighting, so that meant the back of his head and his neck were now exposed after dodging an attack. Ben avoided any threat from the hawk's arm by shoving his forearm into the hawk's bicep and crunching it into the floor. The hawk grunted in pain again as Ben was beginning to mercilessly beat him to a pulp.

Ben whipped his right leg over the hawk's left knee, his feet crashing into the wall nearby. With no way to keep the hawk pinned now, he launched himself off of the wall and rolled away from the hawk. Ben was so locked into the fight he had forgotten about his surroundings, and it had cost him his advantage. He had maybe a couple of seconds to apply another round of pressure before the hawk righted himself.

He sprung to his feet and whipped around. He noticed the hawk had mostly made his way to his knees. Ben stepped forward and kicked with his right leg, his toes pointed downward. The hawk made to block the front of his chest with his hand, but Ben was aiming somewhere else. His shin contacted the hawk in the side of his ribcage, causing the hawk's breath to rush from his lungs uncontrollably. Ben felt at least one rib snap from the kick. The force of the impact lifted the hawk slightly and slammed him into the wall to his left.

Ben saw a telling look from the hawk's eyes as he hit the wall. His eyes were somewhat unfocused, the hawk's body saying it had taken too much of a beating. His hunch was confirmed when the hawk made an attempt to reach for his blaster on his right hip, but his arm wouldn't bend correctly. He couldn't reach the gun, and every attempt to do so brought a pained groan. Ben rushed toward the hawk and removed his blaster from the holster before the hawk could truly respond. He jumped away as the hawk tried to move his right leg in a sweeping motion.

"Bra-_vo_," Leon said slowly.

The hawk saw his adversary pause. The bear was breathing heavily, but it seemed like the fight hadn't taken much out of him. With what little oxygen he could carry to his brain, he forced himself to give in. This bear was an unbelievably dirty fighter. Every shot the bear took was to a specific point on his body, and any time he made contact, the pain was incredible. There was no way the hawk could best him.

He watched in pain and anxiety as the bear took another step away, turned to Leon and said, "I'll let you decide."

Out of the corner of his eye, the hawk saw Leon's face nearly split in two with a grin.


	25. Chapter 24

Peppy and Wolf arrived at the West Hill Hospital emergency bay about ten minutes after getting Fox out of the Luna Stone Hotel. The entire trip from the hotel to the hospital was filled with Fox's labored stridor, thanks to his jaw. If nothing else, it told Peppy Fox was still breathing, although it sounded absolutely terrifying having to listen to him wheeze with every breath. He was listening for any stoppage in Fox's breathing, which would signal very little chance of survival for his most trusted teammate and pilot.

Peppy nearly jumped out of his SUV before bringing it to a stop. He rushed out of his vehicle and tore the back driver's side door open. Fox was still lying on the floorboard under the second row of seats, still oozing blood from his midsection, and still breathing laboriously.

About a minute after stopping, Wolf noticed a bear with dark brown fur garbed in a white lab coat walk out of the main building. He slowly opened his door and stepped out, holding eye contact with the doctor. He noticed the bear was very similar in appearance to Ben, so he figured it was Theo Kaspar.

Dr. Kaspar glanced at Wolf and immediately shifted his line of approach slightly away from him. Wolf simply reached toward the rear door and pulled it open without saying a word. He knew Fox would get the doctor's attention without the doctor wasting time trying to avoid Wolf.

As soon as the door was opened, Theo stopped in his tracks. Fox's feet were pointing toward him, so he noticed the gaping hole in his abdomen first. He stood rooted to his spot for a second or two, then pulled out a small gadget from one of his pockets. It was a miniature communicator connected to several of his assistants and nurses. Unlike the ones the Star Fox team had, these communicators were audio only. "Stretcher, packing and dressing, stat. Open abdominal wound," he said, his training taking over. "I need at least two of you here ready for transport into the main building," he continued into his communicator.

Theo glanced at Wolf uneasily one more time. Wolf simply nodded at him in silence. The doctor was visibly intimidated, but continued in his initial assessment of what he'd need for Fox. He walked around the rear of the SUV and found Peppy had opened the other rear door.

Fox's midsection was still clearly visible to Theo as he approached. He groaned in frustration as he noticed Fox's lower jaw didn't line up with his upper jaw. It had to be broken. Moving in closer, he heard Fox's labored breathing and grimaced.

"Fractured jaw causing stridor. Oxygen line needed. Stand by for emergency surgery on both abdomen and lower jaw." He paused. Theo turned toward Peppy and asked, "How long has his jaw been like this?"

Peppy shrugged, his eyes showing worry. "Probably fifteen minutes or so." He turned away from the doctor and opened the driver's door again, pulling out his datapad. "He's had the open wound for about twenty five minutes."

Theo's jaw clenched. He grabbed the communicator in his coat for a third time and said, "Vulpinoid blood units needed in OR, stat. Be ready for resuscitation." His eyes met Peppy's again. "Sir, we're going to do everything we can to help Fox recover. But he's going to be inactive for several weeks, even if everything goes perfectly."

"Make sure he lives through tonight. That's the most important thing right now," Peppy replied. He said it with a sense of calm, making sure the doctor focused on the goal he could achieve. If Fox didn't live through the night, nothing else would matter.

The emergency bay doors opened again as two technicians walked out with a stretcher. One of them was a female snow leopard, probably in her late twenties. The other was a stocky male owl, also about the same age.

Both of them saw Fox at about the same time. The snow leopard left the owl with the stretcher and ran over to the other side of the SUV. Both Peppy and Theo moved out of the way so they could work uninterrupted.

"Fractured jaw and abdominal wound!" the leopard called. Without saying a word, the owl nodded and edged a foam mat under Fox's legs. The stretcher was hovering gently, just like Peppy's SUV, waiting for its passenger.

The owl paused for a beat, then found Wolf standing quietly on the other side of the open door. "Sir," he said, not realizing he was addressing one of the Lylat System's most wanted criminals. Wolf looked at him with a sideways glance. "I need you to slide the mat under Fox's back once we lift him."

Without a word of protest, Wolf walked to the other side of the stretcher as the owl climbed into the SUV and knelt on the seat above Fox.

"Ready to lift?" he asked. The snow leopard nodded. "One. Two. _Three._" The owl grabbed at Fox's pockets, while the leopard lifted him at the shoulders, trying to keep his neck steady. "Push the mat in!" the owl called to Wolf.

Wolf did as he was told and slid the mat underneath Fox's body. The two technicians set Fox back down and pushed Fox toward the stretcher. As they got him situated, the owl began fastening straps around Fox's shoulders and knees, paying attention to the stridor from Fox's breathing.

And without warning, the stridor disappeared.

"Oh, _fuck_," the owl stated without regard to who was around.

Peppy sprinted around his SUV with Theo Kaspar not far behind. Fox wasn't responding to the sudden lack of oxygen reaching his brain. Peppy froze on the spot in horror, his mind unable to deliver a suitable command to the rest of his body.

Theo brushed past Peppy, reaching toward Fox's jaw and grasped it by hooking his index finger behind Fox's lower teeth. He pulled upward slightly in an effort to open Fox's throat. Peppy, finally shaken out of his trance, immediately looked away. He was obviously sickened by watching Fox's lower jaw slide unnaturally as it was lifted and could almost imagine the sound it must have created. The stridor returned, thankfully, but they didn't have much time.

"Operating room, steady pace," Theo said to his cohorts. They left Peppy and Wolf at the emergency receiving bay without another word. Peppy watched fearfully as the three hospital workers disappeared into the building and turned left, Theo still holding onto Fox's teeth. He took a deep breath, knowing what happened to Fox was completely out of his control now. He had done everything he could, and there was a good chance it still wasn't enough to save him.

Peppy couldn't fathom what the response would be if Fox died. The hero of the Lylat System all of a sudden no longer. It would have been a perfect opportunity for both Janus and Wolf. Janus would have almost no interruptions to carry out what he wanted. And Wolf would be able to return to his old life as a criminal with no way to keep him in check. The only individual Wolf truly respected was Fox, and Peppy was almost certain Wolf was secretly hoping for his death soon. That _had_ to be the reason he was so calm.

After a moment, Peppy said quietly to Wolf, "I'm gonna park and wait for Fox to stabilize." He climbed into the SUV, followed by Wolf in the passenger seat. Peppy guided his vehicle out of the emergency bay and into the parking lot, where he killed the power. Four broad pegs located on the underside of the SUV extended downward and gently made contact with the pavement. On the instrument panel, a word appeared in red letters: "CHARGING."

Both Peppy and Wolf walked into the lobby and sat quietly. Neither of them said a word. Peppy was constantly fidgeting in his seat, unable to remain still. His eyes darted from place to place, looking at everything and seeing nothing. Wolf's attention, however, was attuned to every small detail of what was happening. It had been seemingly forever since he was in a hospital, and all the soft colors and sterilized smells seemed foreign to him.

Maybe ten minutes after they had sat down, Wolf's attention was snagged by the door leading into the rest of the building opening. Two law enforcement officials walked out, making Wolf scowl slightly. Both of them were dogs, not unlike the military. He still had a disdain for any authority from Corneria, as they were constantly trying to incarcerate him. He knew they could see him at any moment, and it would have been nigh impossible for Peppy to call them off. His heart rate quickened as he expected them to apprehend him right there.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the door was held open, and a dark-furred rabbit walked out from behind them. The rabbit had an anxious expression on his face. The dogs began walking the rabbit out of the lobby, one in front and one behind him. As they turned the corner, Wolf made brief eye contact with the rabbit, who presumably worked here, judging by his getup. The glance they exchanged was more than just seeing someone sitting there. The eye contact was intense, like the rabbit was trying to send a message to Wolf about something. He mouthed the words _help me_ in Wolf's direction. The dog bringing up the rear nudged the rabbit forward, trying to get him to keep pace.

As they walked out of the lobby, Wolf realized something wasn't quite right. Why did two law enforcement officials just walk a hospital employee out of the hospital? They never paid him any attention, even though he was sitting not five meters away from them as they had rounded the corner. Perhaps what the rabbit had done was more worthy of their attention.

Wolf didn't announce his intentions to Peppy when he stood. Peppy looked up at him and asked, "What are you doing?"

"You have any idea why two law enforcement officers just escorted a doctor from here?" he asked, beginning to walk toward the entrance.

"No, you're not," Peppy stated preemptively. "I can't let you just walk free around here." He stood and hurried toward Wolf, who had already reached the sliding doors. They opened automatically for him, and he walked through, Peppy close behind.

As Wolf exited the waiting area, he looked around, trying to find any trace of those officers or the rabbit. His eyes found a patrol vehicle silently hovering away. Wolf stared at the vehicle, wondering what had just happened.

"A-four-nine-four," Wolf mumbled to himself. Not a second later, Peppy grabbed him by the arm and led him back into the lobby. Wolf didn't protest. He walked back to the seating area, but after Peppy had returned to his seat, he walked away again. He heard Peppy groan in irritation as he got up for the second time.

Wolf strode over to the receptionist's counter, and without looking at her, grabbed a pen and a small piece of scrap paper. He wrote down what he saw of the patrol vehicle's ID. A494. There were other characters he couldn't make out, but he wasn't sure how many. He replaced the pen and handed the paper to Peppy, who was conveniently standing there. Finally, he returned to his seat and stayed there.

"Is…is this from the patrol car?" Peppy asked, showing Wolf the scrap of paper from the receptionist's counter.

"It's what I could get of the ID," Wolf said without really making eye contact. "You should check it out."

Peppy didn't reply. There was nothing he could do in terms of investigating that particular lead, even if it was one. He simply pocketed the scrap and sat down for the third time in about as many minutes.

"You're not going to do anything about it?" Wolf asked.

"I…I can't. I'm a general in the Cornerian military in the spaceflight division. Why would you think I could trace a patrol vehicle?"

"That doctor asked me to help him," Wolf countered. "I wonder why…" he trailed off, leaving it as a pointed question for Peppy to consider.

"Probably because he knows who you are," Peppy said quietly without making eye contact with Wolf. It didn't take him long to resume his nervous fidgeting.

Wolf decided to leave it at that. There probably wasn't much of anything he or Peppy could do without risking their lives anyway. He resumed to waiting, somewhat irritated that Peppy was so consumed with something he had no control over. And it wasn't long before he was struck by the irony of what had just happened a few seconds earlier.

* * *

To Peppy, seconds passed like hours. He had heard a smattering of footsteps make their way around the waiting area, a few hushed conversations, and several sounds of realization. After a few times of hearing gasps or someone utter "oh…", he figured out they had recognized Wolf O'Donnell.

It was an awkward position to be in, to say the least. Peppy was obviously nervous about something, while Wolf was as calm as ever. Calculating, even. Someone who wasn't familiar with the situation would have guessed Wolf was waiting for just the right time to kill Peppy.

The doors leading further into the main building opened for the umpteenth time, and Wolf noticed Theo Kaspar walking out with Falco Lombardi not far behind him. Falco's right wrist was immobilized in a black brace. Wolf groaned on the inside, wondering how long it would take for either him or Peppy to explain what had happened while he was recovering. And just as he predicted, Falco stopped in his tracks, locking eyes and exchanging seething glares with Wolf.

Wolf's attention was quickly broken by Dr. Kaspar, who approached both of them. The doctor sighed.

"We think he's going to live," the bear said to both of them. "Somehow, Fox's internal organs avoided serious damage, but his peritoneum was burst." Upon seeing both Peppy's and Wolf's vacant looks, the doctor realized neither of them knew a lot about anatomy. He traced a circle with a finger from the middle of his ribcage down to his lower abs. "It's the sac that holds most everything in your midsection. Anyway, the front side of it is blown open, but it seems that it had absorbed almost all of the blast. That's what we're worried about the most, is putting it back together." Theo paused in thought and asked, "What caused it?"

Peppy looked up, finally concentrating. "It had to be a blaster shot," he said quietly. "Energy-based weapon."

"Are they usually deadly?" Theo asked.

Wolf nodded his head and continued for Peppy. "Every time, except for now. The fixer must not have been able to charge his shot." Wolf paused for a moment, his eyes clouded over in thought. "No. Because even a basic shot is enough to kill someone."

"Maybe the gun malfunctioned?" Peppy conjectured. Wolf nodded, not looking at anyone.

"What fixer?" Theo asked, sitting down next to Peppy.

Wolf grinned, hoping the doctor would love to hear this. "Your son's Ben, right?" Theo nodded. "There's a hawk who is a fixer for some…warlord…and Ben pulled him into a fight just before he could kill Fox. And lemme tell you one thing," Wolf said, his tone becoming more intense. He fixed his eyes on Theo. "That fixer didn't stand a chance against your son. I don't know if I've ever seen anyone fight that brutally."

Falco had edged his way over to where the three of them were sitting. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He almost asked Wolf to repeat himself, as he knew Wolf wasn't the kind of individual to say things like that.

"Is he okay?" Theo immediately asked.

"Don't know," Wolf said. "We got Fox away as quickly as we could and left him and Leon to check out the hotel."

"The Luna Stone?" Theo asked. Wolf and Peppy nodded.

Peppy had his datapad with him and allowed himself a small reprieve from worrying about Fox. He activated it and pulled up a screen that showed where the rest of the Star Fox team members were. He showed it to Theo and said, "These four dots are Fox, Falco, Wolf and me." He pointed with the stylus in his right hand. Peppy pressed on Ben's name, and the display immediately switched to a diagram view of the Luna Stone Hotel. "Ben's on the sixteenth floor of the hotel with Leon. If anything happens to him, a warning message will appear telling me some of his vitals. That's how we got to Fox before that hawk could kill him."

The doctor nodded after a while, realizing there wasn't much he could do about the situation, other than hope for the best.

Peppy turned to Falco and asked, "And how are you?"

Falco was a little disconcerted that Peppy didn't seem worried about Wolf O'Donnell nearby. "Uh, I'm fine, I guess," he said slowly. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?" he asked Wolf bluntly.

"I just thought you'd like to know I want to save Corneria City," Wolf said in his best effort to sound sweet. His gruff voice contrasted sharply with his nearly-sarcastic tone of voice he used toward Falco.

Falco rolled his eyes. "Really, what are you doing here, O'Donnell?"

"He just told you," Peppy said before Wolf could reply. He turned to Dr. Kaspar and asked, "Do you have a small room nearby where we can talk away from everyone else?"

Theo was taken aback by Peppy's sudden request and eyed Wolf nervously. Over the years, he had to listen to Ben spout off everything he had learned about Star Fox, and there seemed to be no shortage of information about Wolf. The same Wolf who was sitting in front of him. But as he looked closer, he noticed a small red splotch in Wolf's right eye. Maybe he could use that as leverage to keep Wolf from attacking him. He took a deep breath and stood. "Follow me," he said, beckoning with his hand.

They walked through the doors leading into the main building and turned right. A small, mostly bare room was open. All four of them filed in.

Before anyone could speak, Dr. Kaspar asked, "Wolf, how long have you had that subconjuctival hemorrhage?" He pointed to his own right eye to show Wolf.

Wolf's gaze immediately settled on the doctor. "Three months, I think."

"Anything else that's strange during that time?"

"Yeah," Wolf said definitively. The doctor had snagged his interest. "Headaches so bad I can't breathe. The last time, I could taste blood in my mouth."

"When?"

"Two days ago."

"Tell you what," Theo said, addressing the group. "I'll talk as long as you want if you'll submit for a blood sample." He pointed at Wolf, making his intentions clear.

Wolf turned the proposition over in his head. He just knew that was going to lead to his own arrest, but Ben had promised a way to get rid of the nanorobotics in his system earlier today. Maybe this was his ticket. "Deal," Wolf said succinctly.

"I need you to wait until after we've explained what's happening," Peppy told the doctor. Theo stayed in his seat and simply looked at Peppy. It was his turn to uphold his end of the bargain. "Dr. Kaspar," he began. "That fixer Wolf mentioned earlier is connected to someone we know as Janus. Does that name sound familiar at all to you?"

Peppy knew what Theo's answer would be. He didn't care what the doctor told him. Instead, he cared more about how the doctor acted upon hearing that question.

It didn't take long for Theo to say, "No." His expression didn't change, and there was no sign of recognition.

"As of last night," Peppy continued, "Janus was able to get a hold of several bombs that he probably plans on using soon. They're called 'CM bombs.'"

"What does 'CM' stand for?" Theo asked.

"Critical mass," Peppy responded. "We're doing everything we can to make sure none of those bombs detonate. That is, until Fox was injured." Peppy watched the doctor closely, searching for any hints of recognition, but it seemed Dr. Kaspar wasn't at all connected to Janus. "Anyway, if we don't stop the detonation, a lot of Cornerians are going to die."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Theo asked pointedly.

Peppy sighed. "When these bombs detonate, there's not much of an explosion. It's just to force several pieces of a radioactive block together. If anyone is exposed to the radiation, they won't know it until later. They'll begin to show burns on their skin, and they'll feel like they're getting sick."

"So you're saying radiation sickness, right?" Theo asked for clarification.

"Exactly. This is neutron radiation, so if these bombs _do_ go off, and anyone _is_ exposed, there's a 'walking corpse' phase that lasts about a day. After that…um…it's…well, there's probably not a worse way to die."

"Well, thank you for scaring me," Theo said. He recoiled slightly in his seat. "I still don't understand why you're telling…" He paused. "Oh," he said quietly in realization. "You're joking, right?"

Both Peppy and Wolf shook their heads.

Peppy continued. "Although I hope it doesn't come to this, I need you to be prepared for an influx of patients for radiation sickness. If they're close enough to a core while it's active, there won't be anything anyone can do to help. There will probably be some kind of news about bombs going off in the city at the same time."

Dr. Kaspar and Falco sat there in shock. Neither of them was familiar with extreme radiation poisoning, and Peppy hoped it would stay that way. But he wanted Dr. Kaspar prepared, just in case.

After a few moments, Theo made to stand. Nobody said a word of protest. He looked at Wolf and said, "I'll be back in a few minutes for a blood sample."


	26. Chapter 25

Janus waited until he had gotten out of sight and earshot from Leon, just in case the chameleon was actually paying attention to something other than the Star Fox bear. What he had shown his fixer obviously didn't work, but the hawk wasn't to blame. The fight came to him. And the bear wasted no time in demolishing him.

As he turned the corner, he walked into a stairwell and pulled out his communicator. He activated it and said one word: "Deploy."

The timing was sooner than he wanted, but he figured once the bear was finished with his fixer, they'd soon find access to his suite. And Krystal. If she was well enough to talk, it wouldn't take much prodding to get the intended locations of the bombs.

The message was directed to the military grunts he had entrusted with the bombs. The communicator was in the process of sending the coordinates to each of the five military dogs, where they could quickly place the bombs where they needed to be, activate them, and drive to the next location.

He chose those five military dogs because they had knowledge of the CM bombs. How to activate them. Where the death zone is once they explode. And the effects of what would happen to anyone exposed to the cores directly.

A voice soon returned through his communicator. "Deployment commencing."

He gave no instructions to begin evacuation of the residents. But all it would take was one death from direct radiation. Fear would take care of the rest. The denizens of the city would waste little time in heading for the mountains, where the cyanide lines could be activated.

Janus sighed, simultaneously anxious and excited. He was finally putting his grand vision of a new Corneria City into action.

* * *

"Let's see what he has on him," Leon rasped at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Ben looked at Janus' fixer with a cold expression and grinned almost imperceptibly. The hawk had struggled back to his hands and knees and was glancing fearfully at the bear in front of him. Ben strode toward the hawk's head and crouched slightly.

"No. No!" the hawk shouted painfully.

He tried to move his hands toward his chest to protect it from further destruction, but Ben slipped his right arm underneath his throat. Ben cinched his right hand in the crook of his left elbow and planted his left hand on the back of the hawk's head. Before the hawk realized it, Ben stood up and tightened his grip on the hawk's throat.

The hawk struggled weakly for a couple of seconds before his body went limp. Ben slowly placed the hawk face-down on the floor and immediately began searching his pockets.

He was in luck. On his first try, he produced a plastic card with the words "Luna Stone Hotel" printed on it in red elegant script letters against a white background. He showed it to Leon.

"Pick a door," he said.

Leon smirked and pointed to the white door a few paces down the hall from them. Suite 1609. Ben walked toward the door and inserted the card into the reader. He heard a lock click. Ben took one look at Leon and pushed on the door. It opened. Success.

Once inside, Ben made a mental note to save enough money for a one-night stay in a suite here. This place had to be almost as big as Fox's home. Ben and Leon walked through the main entry, glancing into a standalone bathroom to the right. As they approached the living area, there was a dining room table that looked too elegant to eat at. Behind the table was a small kitchen area. To the left was a large bedroom, which looked like it had been used recently, but nobody was there now. And to the right was another bedroom, which was currently in use.

Leon crept forward quietly, entering the second bedroom and noticed several handheld pieces of medical equipment. He saw an IV bag and oxygen tank connected to the individual in the bed. Moving closer, he noticed the individual was a vixen and had blue fur except around her face, where it gently faded to white. He knew exactly who this was.

Without thinking about the consequences, Leon idly wondered what she knew. Maybe she could help him prevent any CM bombs from detonating. He was mildly surprised when the vixen opened her eyes slightly and slowly focused on him. Her mouth was held open by a somewhat thick breathing tube shoved down her throat. She blinked, her signal that she had seen him. And she knew why he was here.

She felt another presence nearby, one she didn't recognize. As her consciousness defogged, her eyes found a bear standing nearby. He was wearing an off-white flight jacket, and on the left side of his chest was the Star Fox insignia. Her gaze focused on Ben's jacket, the memories of what Fox had done to her still fresh.

Leon heard her react to either him or Ben. She exhaled, trying to vocalize, but she couldn't force any air past her vocal cords. The breathing tube needed to be removed. Leon walked to the side of the bed and grasped on the breathing tube. And pulled. The tube came out of Krystal's mouth smoothly, although Leon felt her gag slightly as it was pulled out of her throat. The open end finally slipped free of her jaws with a reddish tinge on it.

Krystal exhaled weakly, a sickening wave crashing over her. She was content to breathe for a few minutes, not focusing on anything with her eyes. But her mind told her everything she needed to know. She knew Leon and this bear were working toward the same goal. For now, at least. She knew Fox was fighting to stay alive, and Wolf was near him somewhere in Corneria City. The surprise that Fox had felt as Janus' fixer had shot him was all too real. It had gotten her attention like a flood light pointed directly into her eyes. Fleetingly, she wondered where Falco and Slippy were, but the thought soon left her mind.

After a few minutes, Krystal felt stable enough to prop herself on her left elbow to get a better look at the bear.

"You're with Fox," she said in a quiet and precise lilt toward Ben. He nodded. There was a slight pause in her breathing, as if she was contemplating something. "He deserved it," she said toward Ben.

Ben blinked, thrown for a loop. "Deserved what? Getting shot?"

She nodded.

"Telepath," Leon said to Ben, pointing toward Krystal.

Ben tried to hide his flabbergasted expression, but soon realized it would never help him in this situation. She was gonna know about it anyway. This was the infamous Krystal, the drop-dead gorgeous vixen Fox had completely squandered. Fox had made her almost as famous as him, but for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm…I'm sorry for what happened to you," Ben said quietly, taking a chance at appeasing her.

Krystal's thoughts and feelings about Janus came quickly flooding back to her. And just like her former society on Cerinia, it pained her to even think about defying Janus. She squeezed her eyes shut at the intrusion, hyperventilating slightly. But she never said anything about them. Leon and Ben could only gather Krystal was disturbed by something. Maybe a thought or a presence nearby.

Krystal relaxed her eyelids as a tear rolled out. Before it could soak into her fur, she brushed it away with a hand, not even trying to hide it.

"Fifteen Cornerians," she finally said. "I killed all of them. He praised me every time someone died by my hand. He told me the world was better without them." Krystal paused with a long sigh, still looking down.

Leon was about to interject when Krystal winced slightly.

"You don't understand," she said, shifting her empty gaze toward Leon. "I was afraid to leave him. I was afraid of going through exactly what had happened with Fox. Janus promised me that would never happen, as long as I stayed near him."

That was the last thing Ben expected to hear from a former Star Fox team member. And it was definitely something a telepath would never say. As his mind whirred, he slowly realized what she was saying underneath those words. Janus had gone beyond teaching her to follow him. He had _conditioned_ her.

Ben had no idea what to say. He simply looked away from Krystal in mild shock. His eyes found the window looking toward what was the interplanetary communications tower and settled there. He saw emergency crews were still working at the site, hoping to find the last few survivors of the attack. By now though, it had probably become a salvage, rather than a rescue.

As he ran her words back through his head, Ben's thoughts shifted to Janus. He had seen the smoldering hole where the communications tower was located. It angered him that someone could enlist others so easily to carry out an attack like this. And Janus wasn't stopping at the communications tower.

But Krystal stated she was afraid to leave Janus' side. Ben moved his gaze back to the vixen still in the bed, still hooked to several medical instruments. He couldn't get a word out before Krystal voiced his thoughts for both him and Leon.

"Janus is still here," she said. "He is at the stairwell, sending the coordinates for the CM bombs." She flicked her head to her left slightly, indicating the general direction toward him. "You can't do anything to stop this."

Ben interpreted her last statement as a dare, like she had challenged him to keep Janus from finishing the message about the coordinates. He took a step toward the door leading out of the suite.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said to Ben. "He's deploying the bombs now. If you kill him, the bombs explode."

"Wait. What?" Leon finally said.

"He has a trigger. And he has a failsafe if he dies before then. If his heart stops, a microchip will send out the signal."

Ben's right foot was pointed toward the door, ready to stop Janus. His left foot was still pointed toward Krystal. And at this moment, his body didn't know which direction to move. "Can you, um, at least give us the locations?" Ben asked quietly, his right side finally making the decision to stay in the suite.

Krystal nodded and slowly began moving to a sitting position in the bed. She was still generally weak from the inadvertent nanorobotics attack. Her weakness triggered something in her mind. "You have the remote," she said quietly, fixing Ben with a penetrating stare.

"For what?" he asked, thrown mentally off-balance.

"Nanites."

Ben paused. He had to think about when he had last seen nanites. After a brief moment, he remembered. "Yeah, Wolf has nanites in his bloodstream."

"They have the same signature as the ones in my blood," Krystal said, keeping her eyes locked to his.

Ben felt his stomach drop. On one hand, he was grateful he hadn't used the remote to activate Wolf's nanites. On the other, he realized the assassination attempt on Wolf caused collateral damage. "Um…" he started. "I don't know how to convince you of this, but-"

"You haven't used that remote," Krystal finished for him. She paused. "And you don't intend to."

Ben nodded silently, hoping he was being transparent enough for her.

"You can help me get rid of them, correct?" she asked. Ben nodded again. "And if I give the locations of the bombs, you'll help." Ben nodded once again. It was definitely uncomfortable knowing every single one of his thoughts was fair game for her to latch onto.

Krystal paused with a sigh and looked down. "Save yourselves. Leave Corneria City," she said quietly. Her tone of voice indicated she had no intention of revealing the coordinates. "The fire will be gone in two days."

"Remote, Ben," Leon said without trying to hide it. That was the first time Leon had called Ben by his actual name.

Ben reached into his left jacket pocket and pulled out the remote for the nanites. He handed it to Leon, too afraid to get Krystal's and Wolf's blood on his hands. "Coordinates. Now," he said.

Krystal glanced at Leon and asked, "Would that information be worth it to you if you had to use the remote?"

Leon's right thumb moved over the single button on the remote. He was dangerously close to pressing it, but he knew it would risk Wolf's life.

"You won't do it," she stated. "And Janus is at the door. So make it quick," she said tauntingly.

The lock at the door leading into the hall disengaged, and the door opened. A tall and well-built ram with brown fur, garbed in a dark blue jumpsuit, walked into the suite. He took a few steps into the main area and locked eyes with Leon and Ben.

They finally had a face. Janus went from a name to a real individual, and he wasn't more than five meters away from Leon and Ben.

"Did you give them the coordinates?" Janus asked after a thick silence. He saw Krystal shake her head slowly, her eyes clouding over in fear. He sneered and continued, "Good. Let's make sure they don't leave."

Ben's eyes widened in shock as what he had inferred about Janus twisting Krystal's mind was true. Instinctively, he whipped out the blaster he had acquired from Janus' fixer and aimed it at the ram's chest.

"Where did you get that?" Janus asked.

"My favorite hawk," Ben replied coldly. "He was the only one who remotely gave me a fight."

"Don't say a word," Janus said, aiming his words at Krystal.

Ben and Leon watched as Janus calmly pulled a blaster of his own from a holster on his right side.

"Stop right there!" Ben shouted. Janus continued moving the business end of his gun until it was nearly pointed at Ben's head.

"I SAID STOP, DAMMIT!" Ben screamed. Just before Janus finished pointing the gun at his head, Ben pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked, but there was no discharge. Ben felt a wave of freezing cold crash over his midsection as he realized the gun in his hands didn't work.

"Too bad," Janus said quietly. He squeezed the trigger.

Ben was locked in place, seemingly with a death wish. Just as Janus' gun fired, Leon dove toward Ben and shoved him out of the way. Ben dropped the blaster and stumbled to his left, turning his head just in time to watch Leon struggle to hold his balance. Leon hopped forward in reflex, bringing him into the line of fire. Janus's salvo collided with Leon's right arm, tearing his shoulder in two. His jumpsuit ripped at the neck as his arm was peeled away from his body. Leon crumpled silently on the floor, his severed right arm landing about a meter away.

Janus took one step toward Leon when he noticed Krystal gripping the sides of her head in anguish. She groaned, feeling the pain Leon was feeling.

Ben took advantage of Janus' momentary distraction and lunged toward him. On his last step, he leapt into the air with all five of his fingers on his left hand curled into claws. He slammed into Janus' right side, pinning his gun to his leg. Ben's left hand shot straight toward Janus' right eye and raked toward his snout. He felt his index fingernail scrape against a soft feature for just a second before contacting fur again.

Janus howled in pain as he dropped the blaster at his feet. His right hand instinctively tried to grab at his face, trying to shield his eye, but Ben was plastered to his side. Janus sucked in an involuntary breath and groaned again, turning away from Ben. His right hand shot toward his face and covered his eye, which had been gouged open.

Ben rushed forward in an effort to keep Janus off-balance, but Janus continued turning and lowered his head, his left horn crunching against Ben's snout. Ben's neck contorted as Janus shoved into him, the force tipping him off his feet. Ben fell down nearly flat on his back, landing on Leon's severed arm. The elbow jammed into his spine, causing his back to spasm and his legs to lose feeling for a few seconds.

Janus groaned again and checked his right hand. He was bleeding, and anything he could see out of his right eye was nothing more than a nondescript blur. He covered his right eye again and took one step toward Ben, who was just barely beginning to get feeling back in his legs.

"A taste of your own medicine, bear!?" he shouted as he stomped down on Ben's right knee. The joint buckled for an instant before the top of Ben's shin snapped.

Ben screamed in absolute pain as his body contorted, trying to pull itself in a million different directions. Janus backed away and glanced at Krystal, her face twisted into a grimace again.

Janus cursed as he checked his right hand a second time. His eye was still bleeding, and his vision was nearly gone on his right side. He reached down to the floor and picked up both blasters and the remote controlling Krystal's nanites. The remote went into his left pocket, while one of the blasters went into his holster. The other blaster stayed in his left hand.

"You. Little. _Shit__,_" Janus spat at Ben, who was still moaning in agony. There was a strong quaver in his voice, but nobody seemed to notice. "I don't care what your name is, bear. I ought to kill you now, but it seems your blue fox over here doesn't want that to happen. So why don't you just stay here while she and I leave this planet. I've told law enforcement to arrive as soon as the bombs detonate, and they'll find you here in this room. So don't disappoint them because they've been paid handsomely for this."

Janus strode toward Krystal and ripped out the needle attached to her arm. He hoisted her out of the bed without a word and dragged her behind him. On his way out, he grabbed the communicator off the dining table and headed toward the door.

As the wall began to obscure her view, Krystal took one last look at Ben and Leon, her last hope for an end to this nightmare. They soon disappeared behind the wall, Ben's moans echoing throughout the suite as a final reminder of how both he and Leon failed.


End file.
